Item#: 411

Level5

Containment Class:
esoteric

Secondary Class:
thaumiel

Disruption Class:
vlam

Risk Class:
notice

link to memo

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-411 is to be kept in a standard humanoid containment suite at Existential Isolation Facility ██ at [O5 CLEARANCE REQUIRED]. All reasonable requests made by SCP-411 are to be met where possible. A bank of television screens displaying 24-hour news coverage is to be provided for SCP-411's use. Requests for texts and devices that do not yet exist are to be filed until such a time as they can be assessed. At the moment SCP-411 is not considered a containment risk. All information gathered from SCP-411 is to be stored at the Existential Containment Unit and is to be disclosed at the discretion of Dr ██████ only. All staff leaving Existential Isolation Facility ██ are to be administered with Class C Amnestics.
Description: SCP-411 is a grey haired, blue-eyed, Caucasian male of incredibly advanced age. Estimates of his biological age, based on information divulged in interviews, are in the region of 400 years. SCP-411's nature means that special interview and linguistics training is required by all research staff.
SCP-411 ages in reverse, growing younger at the same rate that a normal human ages. SCP-411's memory also functions in reverse; SCP-411 has no recollection of past events but can recall the future.
Much of the information we have gathered about SCP-411 originates from the work of a Dr. Lyetacker, an individual who appears not to work for the Foundation as of yet, via the recollections of SCP-411 himself; as such, caution is to be used when applying this information.
SCP-411 speaks an as-yet-unknown dialect of English that has significant grammatical and vocabulary deviations from Modern English. Individuals who are to be given training in this language will benefit from a background in Spanish, Mandarin and/or Cantonese, ██████ and Haskell.
SCP-411's ability to recall future events is hindered by his advanced biological age; events more than a few months into the future are often forgotten and the details of events in the near to immediate future are often vague and unclear. Events surrounding persons he is familiar with are often more clear but omissions are not uncommon. In addition, deviations from SCP-411's memories of the future cause SCP-411 significant mental harm and can often render him catatonic for days. Due to the potential for valuable data to be lost in this fashion, particularly as one recollection often triggers other more significant recollections, SCP-411's memories are only to be acted upon in the following situations:

Risk of serious injury, security breach or death of the Founder. (Mandatory)
Risk of K-class scenario. (Mandatory)
Risk of Class 1 security breach. (Mandatory)
Risk of death of O5 personnel. (Advised)
Risk of significant and destructive SCP containment breach. (Advised)
Risk of Class 2 security breach. (Suggested)
Risk of multiple senior research staff deaths. (Suggested)

While a full course of training is required to interact with SCP-411, the following guidelines should be followed if emergency meetings are required.

From the viewpoint of SCP-411, your first meeting is your final meeting; distress or other heightened emotional states are not causes for concern.
SCP-411 will reference events in your future as if they were in your past. Do not attempt to act on these events.
SCP-411's perspective on an event is roughly opposite to that of a normal observer.
SCP-411 will answer your questions before you ask them and will not recall any point in the conversation prior to your current question. Do not fail to ask questions SCP-411 has answered.
SCP-411's advanced age should be taken into consideration when interviewing him. Overlong sessions can leave SCP-411 physically and mentally drained.
SCP-411's overall memory is poor. For example, SCP-411 often cannot recall what he will have for dinner later that evening.

It is unknown when Dr. Lyetacker will join The Foundation but it has been decided that he is not to be actively sought. Upon his eventual recruitment, a data breach is to be staged and all information regarding SCP-411 is to be wiped to prevent ontological paradoxes regarding SCP-411's abilities.

« SCP-410 | SCP-411 | SCP-412 »


SCP-412 in standard position inside Storage Unit-11

Item #: SCP-412
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-412 is currently contained within Storage Unit-11 at Site-19; removal of the item requires authorization by no fewer than three (3) personnel with Level-3 clearance, and may be vetoed by Site Security. Gloves should be worn when handling SCP-412 and the item should be transported in an opaque container.
Staff interaction must be carried out with full observance of Hazmat Protocol 7-R. Any and all staff making physical contact with or direct observation of SCP-412 will submit to a full physical examination. Anyone found to exhibit physical alteration will be remanded immediately to quarantine.
Description: SCP-412 is an antique silver hand mirror measuring 18 cm by 7 cm. The mirror has a 4 cm crack in the top left hand corner, and has an etched motif of roses and vines. Around ██% of subjects within direct line of sight of SCP-412 report a compulsion to pick up the item and view their reflection in it. There does not appear to be a discernible pattern to the 'selections' - testing for possible genetic, mental, or other selection markers is ongoing.
Simultaneous observation and contact with SCP-412 causes the item to 'connect' with the subject, regardless of whether they have been coerced into doing so by SCP-412. Tests using restrained subjects have shown that both actions (touching and viewing the reflection) are necessary for a connection to be made. No means of 'severing' this connection have been found, short of complete isolation for a period of no less than two years.
Connected subjects are compelled to repeatedly view their reflection in SCP-412, initially only once or twice a day. Viewing frequency increases over a period of several weeks. By around day 55, the amount of time subjects spend viewing their reflection typically begins to exceed all other activities, including sleep.
Each viewing causes biological alterations to the subject, beginning with minor physiological changes such as enlarged lymph nodes, facial rash, or skin discoloration. Although the exact pattern differs between subjects, by day 90 almost all subjects show downward extension of the ribcage, fixed open jaw by way of large cysts toward the rear of the mouth and severely compromised reproductive and immune systems. Subjects also show a continual loss of memory recall ability and emotional response; fMRI scans have shown a marked decrease in activity in subjects' amygdalae and parietal lobes. Interviews have shown that subjects appear to have an obsession with an 'other', for whom they are being made 'ready'.
Subjects who survive to the advanced stages of alteration (in excess of ███ days) begin to exhibit marked changes in behavior, and more drastic physical alterations. These include the reorganisation of internal organs, leading to the creation of a small empty area inside the chest, increased mucus production and changes in hormone production and [DATA EXPUNGED]. Autopsies on advanced-stage subjects have shown that the 'cavity' could theoretically support a separate life form. This led researchers to speculate that the alterations caused by SCP-412 intend to turn the human body into an 'environment suit' for a life-form unaccustomed to Earth's atmosphere. Authorised personnel should refer to Addendum 412-2 for further details.
Addendum 412-1: Circumstances of retrieval.
SCP-412 came to the attention of the Foundation following five unexplained deaths in ████████████, ██, matching the pattern described above. Three of the deceased owned a hand mirror of a similar age (the design varied considerably); only one mirror had reasonably intact glass. Once it had been established that the mirror was responsible for the mutations, it was taken into Foundation custody. The remains of the other two mirrors showed no unusual properties and were disposed of.
Testing and observation has led researchers to theorize that SCP-412 is not the mirror itself, but is in fact an outside force that 'anchors' to mirrors. This theory is unproven, but any mirrors suspected of exhibiting similar behaviour must be acquired and contained.
Addendum 412-2: Event 412-A
On ██/██/20██, Subject D-56653, 201 days after initial connection to SCP-412, ceased viewing his reflection and sat calmly in the corner of the quarantine room. Three hours later the subject began convulsing and clutching his chest - this continued for three minutes, after which time the subject lay immobile, apparently deceased. Once death had been confirmed, subject's corpse was taken for analysis. Pathologists found a small (8 cm) vaguely humanoid [REDACTED] within the artificial chest cavity. Organism had connected to the subject's blood supply and nervous system, and had begun to extend tendrils upward, puncturing the subject's trachea. Cells in the top ~5 cm of tendrils showed similarity to those in the optic organs of copepods, although with a much more complex structure. The origin of the organism and its cause of death are currently unknown.

« SCP-411 | SCP-412 | SCP-413 »


Item #: SCP-413
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: All entrances to SCP-413 are to be sealed and put under armed guard. Under no circumstances are unauthorized persons allowed to enter SCP-413, with guards authorized to use lethal force. Any personnel entering SCP-413 for experiments are required to wear GPS trackers and safety lines at all times. Should containment be breached, or by O5 decree, Containment Protocol 413 must be immediately enacted by the highest ranking personnel present.
Description: SCP-413 is a four-story parking garage located in [REDACTED]. Inside, SCP-413 has a variable environment that dynamically alters itself. In effect, SCP-413 is able to change its internal structure, such as moving ramps, adding floors, changing stair cases, and so on. However, when observed from the outside, there is no indication of any of these changes taking place. While accurate measurement of SCP-413's interior has proven impossible, it is well established that the interior is larger than the building's external dimensions, and that the interior dimensions are constantly changing.
Another effect SCP-413 appears to have is to interfere with an individual's sense of direction. Analysis of recordings taken of the interior reveal that SCP-413 generates a low-frequency sound within its interior that shuts down or interferes with several key regions of the human brain controlling navigation, balance, and short-term memory. Extended exposure to this sound is known to cause several side effects, such as nausea, dizziness, vomiting, vertigo, anxiety, claustrophobia, and in some rare cases, [DATA EXPUNGED]. However, these effects will eventually wear off once the affected individual leaves SCP-413.
Under no circumstances are personnel to enter SCP-413 without navigation aids and safety lines. Navigation within SCP-413 without the use such equipment is nearly impossible, as the combination of the constantly shifting interior as well as the disrupting sound frequency interfere too much with natural human navigation.
SCP-413 was discovered when a security guard that worked at the site turned in security tapes of SCP-413 to the local police department, suspecting that they had been tampered with. The tapes were immediately confiscated and the entire site was bought out by the Foundation.
Addendum 1: After several incursions, it has been discovered that SCP-413 is in fact sapient. Though not evident at first, SCP-413 is capable of independent thought and possesses human-level intelligence. Communication was initiated via the painted words and signs on SCP-413's walls, which it is able to manipulate to form individual words and sentences. Analysis of SCP-413's behavior suggests that it is highly mischievous and enjoys playing pranks on the unsuspecting. However, it does take great offense to being wronged, and is shown to possess a vengeful and possibly even sadistic side (see Addendum 2).

Interview Log
Dr. ███████: Hello, SCP-413.Dr. ███████: Alright, let's get this interview started, shall we? How long have you been aware of your own existence?Dr. ███████: And when was that?Dr. ███████: Why are you constantly changing your interior?Dr. ███████: So, you don't do it for any particular reason?Dr. ███████: Others?Dr. ███████: What plans?Dr. ███████: (visibly pales)Dr. ███████: I think we're done for today.
Video Logs: The following video logs were recorded by security cameras before SCP-413 was discovered and contained.
Video Log 1
Subject: Family of Six Tourists
Description: SCP-413 proceeds to thwart any attempt for the subjects to find their vehicle. It continually changes signs and markers to mislead and confuse the subjects for the next twenty minutes.
Video Log 2
Subject: Neglectful Mother and her child
Description: Subject is continually led around in circles, with every path she takes eventually leading her back to her car, where she was keeping her child locked in. The cycle continues for seven minutes before the subject finally gives up and leaves SCP-413 with her child.
Video Log 3
Subject: Businessman
Description: By manipulating ramp and sign placement, SCP-413 leads the subject around in circles and forces him to drive through a complex and confusing path before letting him exit.
Video Log 4
Subject: Group of Five Teenage Vandals
Description: Subjects enter SCP-413 and begin vandalizing vehicles and the interior of SCP-413. [DATA EXPUNGED].
Addendum 2: The five teenage youths seen in Video Log 4 were found on ██/██/20██ by a Foundation exploration team. The teens were still alive, though exhausted, malnourished, and dehydrated, despite being declared missing for over three months. Before being administered Class A amnestics and returned to their families, the five teenagers revealed that they were locked in an inescapable labyrinth created by SCP-413, and were kept alive only by several water fountains and vending machines that would conveniently appear. They also stated that [DATA EXPUNGED]. The five teenagers were apparently inside SCP-413 for the entire exploration phase, somehow eluding our deep sensing equipment. Further exploration suspended pending further review.
Containment Protocol 413: Due to Dr. ███████'s insistence and the inability to plant demolition charges within SCP-413, contingency in the case of a major containment breach will instead be carried out via controlled demolition of the entire city block.

« SCP-412 | SCP-413 | SCP-414 »


A gathering of SCP-414-1, taken in 1935.

Item #: SCP-414
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-414 is currently uncontained; containment efforts focus upon mitigating media attention and providing social work programs to demographics targeted by SCP-414. Individuals affected by SCP-414 iterations must be dosed with Class-B amnestics upon recovery and are to be kept under observation. Individuals reaching the final stage of SCP-414-2 are to be contacted by a Foundation social work front company; individuals under final stage SCP-414-2 are to be treated with tri-weekly talk therapy and trained animal companions where applicable.
As it is beyond the Foundation's resources to perform surveillance on every possible target of SCP-414, records from social work organizations and mental health care centers are to be trawled for SCP-414 phenomena where possible. Any media reporting of SCP-414 phenomena are to be removed and a cover story provided; a list of applicable cover stories can be found in Document 414-B.
A cure for SCP-414-2 is to be considered the highest priority after successful and complete containment. - Doctor Alice Ogawa, Principal SCP-414 Researcher
Description: SCP-414 is a phenomenon that targets asocial humans and is categorized into two derivative effects, SCP-414-1 and SCP-414-2. The asociality may range from minor introversion to complete isolation. SCP-414 primarily affects individuals under the NEET1 demographic with no regional preferences. SCP-414 begins when a humanoid in a circular mask, referred to as SCP-414-1, appears in front of a targeted human. SCP-414-1 typically claims to be an employee for a local social work organization.
SCP-414-1 are uniformly tall humanoids wearing circular masks and clothing that covers the whole body. SCP-414-1 only appear when attempting to contact a targeted individual and disappear after successful contact has occurred. SCP-414-1 is believed to have a single collective consciousness capable of sapience, cognizance, and intelligence.
SCP-414-2 is a chronic, degenerative condition resulting from any successful interaction between a targeted subject and an instance of SCP-414-1. Successful interaction occurs when SCP-414-1 has a successful face-to-face conversation2 or contact with a targeted subject.
A subject that has contracted SCP-414-2 undergoes 4 stages lasting between 2 and 276 days, with a 5th stage believed to be permanent. Individuals who are under 30 years of age, or who received SCP-414-2 through physical contact, progress through stages at an accelerated rate.

Overview of Document 414-2-A - 'Symptom Progression Description of SCP-414-2'

Close Overview of Document 414-2-A

Stage One: Subject feels increasingly lonely. Coping mechanisms not involving face-to-face interaction to distract from loneliness causes an increase of feeling. Subject experiences a loss of pleasure when participating in solitary activities. Stage One advances when the subject interacts with another human to alleviate loneliness.
Stage Two: Subject experiences a total loss of pleasure when participating in activities not involving in-person interactions with others. Subject begins to have difficulty in recalling events in their life that contributed significantly to their sense of self but is cognizant of and can recall having such events. Stage Two advances when the subject interacts with other humans at least once every 7 days.
Stage Three: Subject is incapable of feeling fulfillment unless interacting with other humans once every 5 days. They are unable to recall ever enjoying solitary activity or their life before the age of 13. Subjects remain cognizant of this inability. Their sense of self is reduced. Stage Three advances when the subject participates in social events at least once every 7 days.
Stage Four: Subject is incapable of feeling fulfillment without interacting with other humans once every 45 hours. They are unable to recall having significant relationships lasting more than 2 years and are cognizant of this inability. Any sense of self is reduced to name, gender, age, and current emotional state. Subject usually becomes highly productive to feel fulfillment, participating in a range of social activities such as volunteering and hosting gatherings. The circumstances to advance Stage Four are currently unknown.
Stage Five: This is currently considered the final stage. Subject develops hallucinations and sensations of being physically hollow or empty when not currently participating in social activities, causing them to become upset when not in proximity to another person for any length of time over fifteen minutes. They are unable to recall having significant relationships and are cognizant of this inability. At least ███ individuals have been confirmed to have reached Stage Five.

For a list of confirmed SCP-414-2 cases and extensive description, please refer to Document 414-2-A. Notable cases of SCP-414-2 are 414-2-Macgyver-Jacob, the current oldest case, and 414-Kyong- Myung, with the shortest recorded interval between diagnosis and suicide of 48 hours.

There is no cure or treatment available beyond coping mechanisms. SCP-414-2 has a fatality rate of 46.78% over 5 years and 67.84% over 10 years. Individuals over the age of 40 have significantly higher fatality rates of 87.23% over 5 years and 93.85% over 10 years. All fatalities are a result of suicide.
09/12/2014 Incident 414-A: At 06:02 Doctor Eliza Chuang, then-Principal SCP-414 Research Scientist, was contacted by three SCP-414-1. Dr. Chuang had a successful conversation, transcribed below. Dr. Chuang was succeeded by their primary assistant, Doctor Alice Ogawa, immediately after Incident 414-A.
Despite constant social interaction and animal companionship, Dr. Chuang committed suicide on 09/03/2015, 965 days after advancing to Stage 5 SCP-414-2.

Transcript of Incident 414-A

Click to Hide Transcript

[BEGIN LOG]
[06:02] 3 SCP-414-1 humanoids appear at Dr. Chuang's office door. Dr. Chuang can be seen walking to their office. Dr. Chuang stops upon seeing the group of SCP-414-1.
[6:03] The group of SCP-414-1 move towards Dr. Chuang at a speed of approximately 1 meter per second. One SCP-414-1 humanoid grasps Dr. Chuang by the wrist as they attempt to leave. Dr. Chuang begins to struggle and shout for assistance.
[6:04] Security arrives. Dr. Chuang can be seen waving their free arm and shouting "Do not approach! Do not talk! Stand there, please!" Security draws weapons and aims at the group of SCP-414-1 but do not fire. Dr. Chuang turns back to the group of SCP-414-1.
[6:06] Dr. Chuang, calmly: "If you wouldn't mind, could you answer a few questions? Why are you doing this? How do you benefit by doing this to people?"
[6:08] SCP-414-1, in unison: "They work, so little, they are held up when they need to be the foundation, the young so much so. I will help every one of you."
[6:10] Dr. Chuang: "Even when they kill themselves? Even when they forget who they are? How does that help- what is your reasoning?"
[6:12] SCP-414-1, in unison: "It is a last usefulness to society, to die and leave resources for others, others make use of them. Forget yourself for your society. You cannot be egotistical when the ego is carved out. Selfishness, I will cure it, by excising the tumor. I cure society and make the lost find purpose. I help."
[6:14] Dr. Chuang, agitatedly: "But society needs that! They need individuals! Selfishness can drive and motivate success!"
[6:15] SCP-414-1, recoiling collectively: "You are sicker than I thought. You may be kind among your human populace, but I have surely known kinder men. I thought, you, who worked for the good of all, would be my ally. But it's alright. I will take care of you. You will feel better when I'm done with you."
[6:16] Dr. Chuang: "Why did you come to me? Who are you? Where are you from and how do you work?" Dr. Chuang can be seen attempting to free themself from the grip on their arm.
[6:15] SCP-414-1, in unison: "You want to stop us. But you are trying to stop helping. You are secure, contain, protect. I am society, community, progress- a shepherd for humans. You are a sick lost lamb, not for much longer."
[6:17] Dr. Chuang attempts to speak, but an SCP-414-1 instance puts a gloved finger to their lips. The instance pets Dr. Chuang's head and presses its mask against the side of their head, accompanied by a kissing sound.
[6:18] The group of SCP-414-1 produces a flash of light and the camera feed cuts for 0.3 seconds. When the feed is returned, all SCP-414-1 instances are missing. Dr. Chuang kneels on the floor, head in hands.
[END LOG]

Transcript of Interview 414-56

Click to Hide Transcript

Interviewed: Doctor Eliza Chuang
Interviewer: Doctor Alice Ogawa
Foreword: This interview occurs 35 days after Dr. Chuang is confirmed to have entered Stage 5 SCP-414-2.
[BEGIN LOG]
Dr. Ogawa: Good morning. Dr. Chuang. How are you feeling?
Dr. Chuang: (excitedly) Good morning! Your face is so… ah, it matters little! You are here, it is good to see you!
Dr. Ogawa: Could you explain what you were about to say regarding my face?
Dr. Chuang: (calming down) Ah, just. It was so… I once knew… a face. I once cared for… someone. An assistant, I had an assistant. But I don't remember them.
Dr. Ogawa: I see. How do you feel when you remember that you used to remember?
Dr. Chuang: It is an unpleasant emotion, definitely. I remember that I used to know and feel so much. I once had a past, but it's gone now. I used to… have a project. But that's gone, now. It's all gone. But enough about me. What's important to you? Tell me more about yourself.
Dr. Ogawa: My research is important to me. It was the life work of my mentor and now it's become mine. It's what connects me to them.
Dr. Chuang: It's good, you have something to believe in. That's necessary- someone always has to believe in something, with all their being, that's how humanity makes progress. Individuals pursuing what they believe in. Where's your mentor now?
Dr. Ogawa: (quietly) No longer with me, as I understand it.
Dr. Chuang: How unfortunate… I'm so sorry. Can I help you? Maybe be your assistant? Or keep you company in the laboratories. As I understand, they can get very quiet and lonely.
Dr. Ogawa: (begins to get up) Thank you for the offer but I think we're done now.
Dr. Chuang: Wait! Please, wait just a moment. Could you at least tell me your name?
Dr. Ogawa: (leaving, quietly) Alice. Just Alice.
Dr. Chuang: I'm glad to have known you, Alice. I'm sure, this research is stressful for you. I'm sure you've made your mentor proud and, I think, that's what an assistant would want, is to succeed their mentor?
Dr. Ogawa: (whispering) Not as much as I want them back… (louder) Thank you for your kind words. Good bye.
Dr. Chuang: Goodbye! (smiling widely, waving) Keep your head high. It'll get better. Have faith.
[END LOG]
Closing Statement: Dr. Ogawa no longer performs routine interviews with Dr. Chuang. Routine interviews will be conducted by Dr. K███ M██.

Footnotes
1. Not in Education, Employment, or Training
2. a successful conversation is defined by at least one spoken phrase and one spoken reply

« SCP-413 | SCP-414 | SCP-415 »


Item: SCP-415
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-415 is to be kept in standard living quarters with freedom of movement while with an armed guard. Guards and monitoring staff are to be stationed by the living area and all activity deviating from the daily norm is to be recorded. Requests for simple luxuries have been authorized and thus far such requests have been for reading material. This policy should continue as long as SCP-415 remains cooperative. Personnel interacting with SCP-415 show a particular risk of succumbing to sympathetic or emotional attachment. Due to this effect the staff assigned to SCP-415 should be rotated every 30 days.
Description: SCP-415 is a 176.9 centimeter tall Caucasian male of 36 years. He has blue eyes, receding brown hair, and appears to be human. Subject exhibits an average IQ and a relatively stable personality given his situation. He is cooperative with on-site staff, though is nervous around medical equipment and personnel.
SCP-415 seems to possess a regenerative healing ability focusing on tissue and organ regrowth. This ability is most pronounced concerning his internal organs, particularly the liver, spleen, pancreas, and colon. Skeletal breaks have been observed to heal faster than the human norm but slower than soft organs. The subject has shown the ability to survive with organs that have suffered severe damage or been completely removed. The damaged or missing organs will regrow and become fully healthy and functioning within a period of one to three months. Despite subject's near immortality thanks to this process he has shown a completely normal immune system and has been affected by the common cold and influenza with completely unremarkable results.
SCP-415's body has undergone several radical alterations performed by an unknown third party. Subject has several zippers surgically installed on his body: one curved from his left armpit to the skin over his stomach, one centered directly over the heart, and two installed parallel to each other on the gut. Further physical anomalies have been observed that were later found to have been removed or resolved over time.

Most of the torso was covered by a loose flap of skin that could be lifted at any time, and was pinned on by three safety pins and a sewing button. This anomaly remained for 63 days.

Several long lines of stitches crudely placed with thick black thread of unknown material, raising the surface of the skin by more than a centimeter in some places. A particularly noticeable stitching began on the small of the back and continued up the side until the fourth rib. From here it passed over the neck and forked into two branches ending on the shoulders. In an accident where he was struck with some force this stitching was severed. The entire left side ripped open and almost all the internal organs spilled out. There was evidence that this stitching was undone and replaced numerous times over a period of nine months despite constant observation. At the end of this period all stitches vanished and subject showed no evidence of their existence.

A steel lining was found inserted in between the solid bones of the skull. If a sharp object like a scalpel or knife was slid through, and some pressure applied, the structure would allow the top of his skull to be removed. This mechanism remains in place at present but is largely unnoticeable to the casual observer.

It has been consistently observed by staff assigned to SCP-415 that before one of these physical modification anomalies the subject will enter a state of extreme panic and heightened strength accompanied by frantic screaming. At a point during this panicked state the subject will undergo a ‘phase' where the environment within 2.5m of the subject will warp, displaying what has been described by observing staff as ‘alien landscapes', ‘operating rooms', ‘oversized organic anatomy', and in one instance, ‘an amusement park'. The subject will then vanish from our reality for a period of time ranging from .25 seconds to the longest recorded time of 3 seconds.
Upon reappearance of the subject a new modification will be present, with occasional repeats of past modifications. Subject is unable to explain to where he is taken to during these attacks at any given time, but is firm in stating his duration of departure is significantly longer than his recorded departure time (upwards of several years in some cases).
Addendum 415-01: SCP-415 had been in a state of movement across the United States for approximately two and a half years, allegedly hitchhiking, staying in the wilderness, and living sporadically in small towns. Although no full record of his activities exists, information from interviews and first hand civilian reports have provided a partial travel map. He was first sighted in New England fleeing along the east coast of the US, then traveled almost directly into the heart of the Midwest before wandering in a rough circle around that area, participating in farm work and manual labor. According to SCP-415, he was running from an organization that he believes to be hunting him; presumably to sell his organs on the black market. The Foundation came in contact with SCP-415 after he turned himself in to the FBI, asking for protection from this unknown organization. SCP-415 was intercepted and contained while in transport to an asylum after turning violent upon his requests being declined.

« SCP-414 | SCP-415 | SCP-416 »


Item #: SCP-416
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Owing to its anomalous topographic structure and the danger it poses to civilians, it is essential that SCP-416 be sequestered from the public. Though SCP-416's true borders have yet to be exactly mapped, SCP Overwatch has, in cooperation with the ████████ government, restricted foot access and instituted a no-fly-zone within five (5) kilometers from the boundaries measured by the initial observation team.
Description: SCP-416 is an oblong area of forest located in the █████████ █████████ in northern ████████, ██████ ███████. Though its true borders are not known (and indeed may be in a constant state of flux), estimates place its "center" at ██°██ N, ██°███ W. It displays remarkable spatial anomalies, the most notable of which is that once entered, it is impossible to leave on foot; the only personnel to escape the area inside SCP-416 were extracted by an aerial reconnaissance team. Though from the air SCP-416 appears identical to the surrounding coniferous forests, it displays a bewildering array of plant life; species as varied as Joshua trees (Yucca brevifolia), Grandidier's baobab (Adansonia grandidieri), Wollemi pine (Wollemia nobilis), and manchineel trees (Hippomane mancinella) have been observed. No explanation has been offered as to how these species arrived and propagated. All observations indicate that SCP-416 is entirely devoid of animal, fungal, or insect life. Personnel deployed inside SCP-416 report that the entire area is continually overcast with fog despite satellite evidence to the contrary.
Exploratory Records: On ██/██/████, local geographical surveyors reported a sudden seismic event coming from the area now known as SCP-416. The Foundation was alerted after the surveyors reported anomalous topological features. D-class personnel were fitted with GPS trackers and tasked with walking across the entire area of SCP-416; though the subjects reported that they maintained a constant speed, their movement speed relative to the area outside SCP-416 slowed dramatically as the subjects ventured further in. The deployed personnel were unable to reach the epicenter of the seismic event. The subjects reported no indication of backtracking on their part; it appears that SCP-416 may be infinite in area to observers located within it. The D-class personnel forced to endure prolonged stays inside SCP-416 have developed a wide array of mental instabilities, ranging from depression and post-traumatic stress disorder to catatonia, hallucinations, and psychosis.
Topological Analysis: A team of physicists assigned to analyze the topographical anomalies associated with this SCP concluded that it appears to be the three-dimensional intersection of a six-dimensional Calabi-Yau manifold with the surface of the Earth. Research is still being conducted as to what force maintains this intersection, though speculation abounds that it is related to the object or objects at the center of SCP-416.
Addendum 04-5: SCP-416 is being considered as a storage location for several movable Safe and Euclid-level SCP's, specifically [DATA EXPUNGED].

« SCP-415 | SCP-416 | SCP-417 »


Item #: SCP-417
Object Class: Euclid (Potentially Keter)
Special Containment Procedures: Due to SCP-417's inability to be moved safely, SCP-417 remains stationary in █████████████████. The area surrounding SCP-417 (2.58 km² approx.) is patrolled by guards and bordered with a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire. Civilians are informed that a small village with a highly virulent plague is being quarantined until further notice. Trespassers are to be shot on sight. Only Class-D personnel are permitted to directly handle and work with SCP-417. As wild animals seem to instinctively eschew SCP-417, no action need be taken against animals seen in the enclosed area.
All victims bitten by SCP-417-1 may be granted immediate euthanasia on request, and their body is to be placed in a sealed container and cremated immediately. Those that do not request will have the same immediate termination, except in the case of test subjects.
Description: SCP-417 resembles an African baobab tree in general size and structure, though it lacks leaves, giving it a dead appearance. Its bark has a drab, off-colour appearance. Despite the absence of leaves, SCP-417 bears fruit every sundown. Small buds form as the sun rises and the fruit grows and matures quickly over the course of the day, before ripening into pomegranate-sized, hard-husked fruit. This fruit has dark purple-black skin and a mostly smooth texture that grows pebbly as it becomes overripe. This hard husk may be cut or peeled away by hand or with tools.
Removal of the skin reveals no fruit or pulp, but a hollow cavity containing several insects collectively known as SCP-417-1. The appearance and species of SCP-417-1 change from fruit to fruit, as well as the scope of the ensuing swarm (See Addendum #417-B). SCP-417-1 will unanimously attack anything that moves with startlingly painful bites.
Within the first few minutes, bites sustained from the swarm swell into painful red sores with minor puncture wounds. No known remedy will soothe the pain of the bites. In 5% of the recorded cases, bites have no lasting effect and the swelling and pain reduce after a few days. 45% of the time, those bitten will begin to have convulsions and suffer from a fatal heart attack within several hours. At that stage, their body will rot and dissolve at an accelerated rate. In the area where their body had been, a new tree will begin to grow over the course of the next few days.
In the remaining 50%, after an indeterminate period of 2-24 hours, those afflicted begin to complain of severe pains and muscle atrophy, expelling flesh by [DATA EXPUNGED] appear to coincide with the approximate mass of SCP-417-1.
While growing, the plague trees, as they have been dubbed, are vulnerable to being felled, incineration, and conventional herbicides.
SCP-417 cannot be moved, as all attempts to fell or shift the original tree result in severe agitation of the branches, causing all instances of the fruit to fall to the ground, splitting and releasing massive swarms of SCP-417-1. Thankfully, SCP-417-1 does not seem to survive for longer than 1-2 hours, dying with little incident. If the fruit of SCP-417 is not picked or shaken off the branches, it simply rots on the branches and falls to the ground, with no ill effects.

Addendum #417-A: Although SCP-417 is currently listed as a Euclid class item, its potential for spreading has sparked some argument over a possible transfer to Keter class.
Addendum #417-B: Notable specimens of 417-1:

Several dozen creatures resembling black widow spiders, except with only four long, cricket-like legs each that allowed for them to make astonishingly long, fast jumps.
Twenty wasps with red and orange stripes and wings similar to those of a butterfly, capable of surprisingly fast flight.
A single black millipede, five meters long, curled into a ball inside the fruit.
Thousands of tiny fruit-fly-esque creatures that emitted a high-pitched buzzing.

« SCP-416 | SCP-417 | SCP-418 »


Item#: 418

Level2

Containment Class:
safe

Secondary Class:
{$secondary-class}

Disruption Class:
dark

Risk Class:
caution

link to memo

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-418 is to be kept in a standard humanoid containment cell with category 3 surveillance. SCP-418 is to undergo weekly examinations to ensure that the removal of SCP-418-1 is not causing harm and that all portions of SCP-418 are still in place. No object with an edge capable of puncturing normal human skin, including materials such as paper, or that is capable of being converted into such an object is permitted in SCP-418's containment cell. As reading is not available to SCP-418 he is provided with a library of contemporary and classical television and films stored as media files on a modified and padded laptop computer. This privilege is to be suspended if at any time SCP-418 appears to be attempting to damage said laptop to gain access to a sharp edge.
SCP-418-1 is to be kept at internal body temperature in a medical containment unit in a secure location. Should SCP-418 become a security or containment threat SCP-418-1 is to be incinerated. SCP-418 is not to be informed of its location.
Description: SCP-418 is a human male of Native American descent in his late 30s (exact age unknown) with black hair and brown eyes. His physical fitness and intelligence are above average, but not to an extraordinary degree. He possesses the capacity of autonomous anatomic separation, a trait he claims to be hereditary. SCP-418 has extensive experience as an industrial saboteur and related fields.
SCP-418 was apprehended while infiltrating Site ██ under the employ of an individual currently believed to be affiliated with Marshall, Carter and Dark Ltd.
When SCP-418 is injured in such a way that his skin is broken the injury will near instantaneously grow in length until it severs a portion of SCP-418's body. Such injuries are uniform and clean with no variation or resistance due to tissue type. Despite the severe appearance of these injuries the portions of SCP-418's body will continue to function as if they were still connected to each other, even if an organ is severed. For example blood in a blood vessel that has been severed will travel from one segment to the other instantly as though the gap was not there. The same is true of materials taken in by the body, SCP-418 can drink and eat while his head is severed and can hear through a severed ear.
If the severed portion is placed back in contact with the location from which it was severed it reconnects with no sign of injury.
SCP-418 has trained extensively with his abilities and is able to consciously control many muscle functions not normally under human control, such as peristalsis, allowing him to use his severed portions and removed organs for a variety of purposes.
SCP-418-1 is SCP-418's heart which was removed as a control on SCP-418's behaviour.
Interview SCP-418/3
SCP-418 Testing Log
Test sequence SCP-418-7
Test sequence conducted between 1900 and 1███ hours on ██/██/19██ Dr. ███████.
Stimulus 1: A standard Foundation combat knife applied to the wrist.
Result: SCP-418's hand severed. SCP-418 reports mild discomfort and that this is a normal reaction to his abilities. Approx .5cc blood lost due to cut, no lasting injury of any kind.
Comments: A baseline for SCP-418's abilities. The potential for the use of SCP-418 nerve tissue for data transmission to be investigated.
Stimulus 2: Zinc plated masonry nail (60g) applied with a standard maintenance hammer to SCP-418's hand.
Result: Nail driven into SCP-418's hand. SCP-418's hand is divided in half laterally across the point of injury. SCP-418 reported a brief moment of extreme pain at point of injury.
Comments: No lasting injury. SCP-418 requested a break in testing, request denied.
Stimulus 3: A standard maintenance hammer applied to SCP-418's left forearm.
Result: SCP-418's arm broken. SCP-418 reports extreme pain.
Comments: SCP-418 healed within human norms. SCP-418's arm then severed due to the action of sharp bone fragments on his own abilites. SCP-418's arm kept separated for the duration of the healing process to observe the process and to prevent it being severed by the unhealed edges of the bones. SCP-418's morale and co-operation have been significantly damaged since this test.
Stimulus 4: A standard Bunsen Burner applied to the back of SCP-418's left hand.
Result: SCP-418's hand burned. SCP-418 reports significant pain and assaults Dr. ███████.
Comments: Injury heals within human norms.
Stimulus 5: 27 bullets fired from a standard Foundation assault rifle, 19 of which hit.
Result: SCP-418 reports extreme pain from each of the successful hits. Each severs SCP-418 as with Stimulus 2. SCP-418 goes into shock and is reassembled, given medical treatment and returned to his containment cell.
Comments: No lasting injury. SCP-418-1 recovered at this point.
Note: Dr. ███████ was not permanently injured. Dr. ███████ has been mentored on proper test planning with regards to SCP morale and co-operation. While the data is valuable, such intensive testing should be reserved for overtly hostile SCPs.

« SCP-417 | SCP-418 | SCP-419 »


Item #: SCP-419
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-419 is to be kept within a steel alloy1 frame and attached to its accommodating wallspace. No covering or casing is present. SCP-419 currently resides in a room inside Site 33, dimensions 3m x 5m x 4m. All of the walls in the containment unit, including the one behind SCP-419, are made of a mesh of plastic, steel, and concrete. On the north-facing wall of the containment room is a viewing bay2 leading to another room with the same dimensions. Two guards are positioned outside of the containment room near the viewing bay and are authorized to use lethal force. They shift every three (3) hours. SCP-419 must be cleaned daily with ordinary window-cleaning supplies. Any personnel tasked with maintenance must not suffer from acrophobia. Constant monitoring of SCP-419 must take place from the viewing bay in order to ensure that the view through SCP-419 does not change significantly. In the event that it does, contact Site Director █████. Access to SCP-419 is prohibited except under special circumstances and permission from Site Director.
Description: SCP-419 is a large pane of reinforced glass 1.5m x 3.6m x 7.6cm in dimensions. One side of SCP-419 does not allow light to pass through. Instead, it displays a view of what appears to be an extradimensional urban environment. This phenomenon is only present when viewed directly by a human subject. Photographs, motion sensors, and vision-enhancing objects such as glasses or contacts all act on SCP-419 as if it were a mirror. The scene viewed through SCP-419 appears to be outside but lacks any natural lighting, regardless of the time it is viewed. No super-terrestrial forms (such as celestial bodies) are visible. The view would appear to originate from a vantage point high above ground level. Approximately 800 lux of light emanates from SCP-419 despite the lack of a light source. The source of this phenomenon is theorized to be whatever environment SCP-419 displays. Light from SCP-419's testing chamber does not affect this scene.
The buildings visible through SCP-419 appear similar to those of the Victorian architectural period. However, they tend to have unusual, almost imperceptible changes that make them appear warped or twisted, or occupying spaces they should not. Much, if not all of the area viewed through SCP-419, is non-Euclidean. Estimates of the size of this city vary depending on when it is viewed and have ranged from approximately twelve square kilometers to over sixty. A multitude of neon lights and signs have been noted but are not in any known language.
Organisms have been viewed walking, albeit only en masse due to their relatively small size. Their actual size is currently unknown due to the lack of a scale. They appear to be humanoid and dark red in color; however, the lack of available computerized assistance and the obvious flaws in the human eye does not allow for a higher level of detail to be ascertained. Due to their seemingly advanced level of technology, the running theory among researchers is that this is not their actual skin color, but rather their clothing.
Additional Description:

{+} Prior to Incident 419-B (Obsolete)

{-} Prior to Incident 419-B (Obsolete)

Occasionally, large metallic constructs have been viewed moving through the "streets" followed by large masses of the humanoids. During these occasions such processions compose all of the visible movement within the city. Dr.█████ notes that these processions are highly reminiscent of military marches due to their extremely geometric nature and constant pace.

{+} After Incident 419-B

{-} After Incident 419-B

Following Incident 419-B, the entire landscape viewed through SCP-419 has changed drastically. Many of the buildings appear to be lit on fire or smoldering, much of the ground is covered in rubble, and there is almost no visible movement from the previously-described red humanoids. However, what appear to be similarly shaped dark blue humanoids have been observed performing similar processions. Approximately ██% of the buildings consistently observed before Incident 419-B have collapsed. Visibility has also been significantly obscured by an opaque gas, theorized to be smoke. Upon closer inspection, a multitude of dark gray figures are visible in the streets, but remain stationary. The implications of this event are unknown.

Note 9-27-13: SCP-419 seems to be aging at an abnormally fast rate. We currently believe this is due to the atmosphere on the other side, though we obviously cannot test it to know for sure. At this speed, SCP-419 could become non-functional as soon as 2019. What this will mean, we do not yet know.
- ████ Kulzn

Footnotes
1. Alloy is 980X HSLA
2. Note that there is no physical barrier between the viewing bay and SCP-419.

« SCP-418 | SCP-419 | SCP-420 »


Item #: SCP-420
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-420 is to be contained in storage locker 1014-420 at Site-██. Level 3 clearance is required to remove it from storage. Samples of SCP-420-1 not in use for testing should be stored in the container marked "SCP-420-1-decon" in locker 1014-420 until they lose potency, at which time they can be disposed of as biohazardous liquid waste. Please make note of the time and date in the attached log when samples of SCP-420-1 are added to the decon container.
Those infected with SCP-420-2 are non-contagious, and should be contained in standard solitary D-class secure confinement. On reaching phase 3, infectees' rations should be doubled. Phase 4 infectees should be kept under constant surveillance for signs of advancement to phase 6, in which case the infected must be destroyed by high-temperature incineration.
Description: SCP-420 is a dirty bottle of [REDACTED]-brand whiskey with no lid; when emptied, a small amount of whiskey-like liquid (SCP-420-1) remains in the bottle, appearing as liquid adhering to the sides. This liquid pools back into a few milliliters of SCP-420-1 over time. Drinking SCP-420-1 will cause SCP-420-2, a nonfatal but consuming degeneration and mutation of skin and keratinous tissue (hair, fingernails, etc.) in the infected. Cases of SCP-420-2 should be contained for further study. Early cases can be treated (see Treatment, below). SCP-420-2 has only been shown to affect humans.
SCP-420 cannot be washed out; liquid added in turns into SCP-420-1. When poured out, SCP-420-1 retains its properties for up to 48 hours. Chemical analysis shows no anomalies in SCP-420-1 before or after loss of potency: it is identical to [REDACTED] brand whiskey when potent, and has all the same effects in addition to causing SCP-420-2. When it loses its potency, the chemical structure changes to that of concentrated urine. Urinalysis of decontaminated SCP-420-1 shows that it belongs to a human male, approximate age 50, with severe liver degeneration. Further analysis using [DATA EXPUNGED] shows that the urine contains trace quantities of [DATA EXPUNGED] consistent with SCP-███; research shows [DATA EXPUNGED].
SCP-420-2's infection progress varies somewhat from patient to patient, but can be described in several phases. Detailed descriptions for therapeutic purposes can be found in Medical Document 420a-4 (attached). Brief descriptions for containment purposes follow:

Phase 1: Immediately to 12 hours after consuming SCP-420-1. The infected's mouth becomes dry and swollen, leading to slurred speech. Note that this slurred speech is not consistent with intoxication: recording 420-c-004 (attached) contains a comparison of speech patterns resulting from intoxication compared with SCP-420-2. Within 24 hours of consuming SCP-420-1, the infected's finger- and toenails become extremely brittle, cracking up the finger and bleeding. Fingernail growth is at the same time accelerated. Ingrown nails are an inevitability; infection of these ingrown nails and open sores is identical to uninfected subjects. The infected's hair exhibits similar characteristics.

Phase 2: 1-2 weeks after phase 1. The infected's skin becomes brittle and dry, cracking and sloughing off. Like nails and hair, growth is also accelerated, replacing lost tissue and growing more in heavy, thick folds. Genetic analysis of keratinocytes shows mutations similar to skin cancer. The tissue undergoes additional vascularisation similar to cancer cell metastasis. Though apparently cancerous, these cells have not shown any tendency for detachment resulting in systemic spread. Thus, phase 2 is not malignant: even if phase 2 keratinocytes are injected into the blood, they will reattach to the skin layer or die1. Innervation of the site is fully functional. Growth of the skin folds inside the infectee's mouth prevents communication, although growth progresses such that the infected can still breathe and eat. Infectees show a complete disregard for what they eat. Only one post-phase 2 infected has been observed outside laboratory conditions (see Recovery Log 420, below); the majority of SCP-420-2 infectees die due to malnutrition/food poisoning, infection of open wounds, or alcohol poisoning from over-consumption of SCP-420-1 in this or earlier phases.

Phase 3: 3-6 weeks after phase 2. The infected loses innervation of the skin and other keratinous surfaces. Nerves in the skin layer grow uncontrollably, but no longer send signals back to the central nervous system. Genetic analysis of skin samples from this time shows mutations in keratinocytes so severe as to no longer resemble human DNA. Though individual samples suggest the mutations are random, analysis of samples from different infectees shows a consistent mutational path leading to a final genotype with relatively little variation. In other words, the skin of the infected is a different organism entirely, possibly a different species, related only to other infectees' skin. At this stage, 'tumours' may form inside the skin layer, analogous to several types of tissue, including muscle and secretory cells. Also at this stage, the skin slows its cracking and falling apart, although it never stops entirely. It becomes a thick series of leathery folds with exposed, bloody tissue beneath. Fingernails and hair grow out from the skin at apparently random locations.

Phase 4: 3-7 days after phase 3. The skin begins to twitch and writhe on its own in apparently random patterns. Differentiated tumours develop into whole surfaces of contractile and other tissues. Small 'throats' begin to form leading from the outside of the skin to the circulation of the host, but are mainly nonfunctional at this point: the host's mouth still does most of the eating, although the host itself doesn't appear to be eating now. The mouth is instead working on its own: CAT scans of the host's brain activity show panic and fear as the only dominant thoughts, and motor groups in the jaw muscle area are not recruited. Rather, chewing and swallowing are forced by the motions of the mutated skin.

Phase 5: 1-2 days after phase 4. Phase 4 and 5 may overlap significantly, with different portions of the skin entering phase 5 faster than others. The twitching/writhing skin activity gives way to organised motion. The skin can now be considered a separate organism from the host; it moves the body like a puppet (albeit slowly), and exhibits extremely rudimentary intelligence. It is a scavenger organism and opportunistic predator. The skin digests food by excreting a clear enzymaceous fluid onto proposed food, leaving it to digest, and then folding the food into itself. Ingested food is taken into folds lined with thick, heavy hairs and keratinous plates leading down into the 'throats'. Inside this mouth, a grinding net of keratinous plates breaks down food, which is then filtered and absorbed into the host's blood. Activity scans of the brain show many hosts, at this stage, have gone insane. Some, however, seem relatively calm, and are processing input from eyes and ears normally.

Phase 6: Most of the infected remain at phase 5 indefinitely; the trigger which causes a shift into phase 6 is unknown. The skin begins rapidly growing hair and keratinous "teeth", increasing in mass, and [DATA EXPUNGED]. Infected patients who appear to be entering phase 6 should be destroyed immediately by total incineration.

Treatment: SCP-420-2 can be treated in phase 1 by aggressive radiation and chemotherapy, coupled with constant intravenous administration of formula 420-a09t-t174b (see Medical Document 420a-4 for pharmaceutical and chemical properties and therapy description). This treatment has a 73% success rate (full removal of SCP-420-2) and 21% fatality. From phase 2 onward, constant administration of 420-a09t-t174b will slow the progression by two to tenfold, but rarely removes it entirely (success rate of full removal of SCP-420-2 drops by about 25% per day after the onset of phase 2). Additionally, 420-a09t-t174b appears to be at least part of the trigger to entering phase 6: 420-a09t-t174b treatment should be halted in phase 5.
Recovery Log 420: SCP-420 was found in the possession of an unidentified vagrant in ████ ████████, United Kingdom. Agents had been sent to investigate reports of a "bridge troll", which was revealed to be the aforementioned vagrant in phase 5 of SCP-420-2. The vagrant's skin appeared to be using SCP-420 to create and drink SCP-420-1 constantly through its mouths, although its primary sustenance came via refuse, local pets, and [REDACTED]. The vagrant was collected and designated SCP-420-a. SCP-420-a perished during experimentation on ██/██/2010 and was incinerated after autopsy.

Footnotes
1. Research is underway as to why these cells, though phenotypically cancerous, remain nonmalignant. Those with appropriate qualifications who are interested in joining this project should contact me. —Dr. Ersen

« SCP-419 | SCP-420 | SCP-421 »


Item #: SCP-421
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-421 is contained near Sector-28 by means of a steel anti-submarine net positioned across the mouth of the bay found at █████████°N, ██████████°W. The net is to be examined for damage weekly by Sector-28 staff, or immediately upon observation of abnormal behaviour of SCP-421. Civilian shipping should be prevented from entering the bay; nautical charts have been altered to indicate the presence of subsurface rocks dangerous to vessels throughout the area.
The bay containing SCP-421 has been dredged by Foundation vessels to allow for simulation of a deep sea environment, as it is believed this encourages SCP-421 to remain docile. SCP-421 should be 'fed' on a bimonthly basis; standard feed consists of a wooden fishing vessel, typically at least 15 metres in length and preferably in a dilapidated condition. The feed vessel should be floated out into the middle of the SCP-421 bay before being scuttled. It is noted that SCP-421 could theoretically consume significantly more material than it is currently provided with; current feeding protocols are designed to maintain the total mass of SCP-421 at the present level.
Description: SCP-421 is an organism comprised entirely of driftwood and other oceanic waste. The exact configuration of the organism appears to be in constant flux, but typically consists of a centralized body of relatively tightly packed driftwood surrounded by a shoal of smaller organisms similar in appearance and behaviour to fish. Individual members of the shoal are regularly subsumed or created from the main body and have demonstrated no ability to reconfigure themselves while separated from the bulk of SCP-421. It is hypothesised that SCP-421 possesses a hive intelligence similar to that observed in social insects; members of the SCP-421 shoal are able to travel independently for ██ km, beyond which they lose integrity and are reduced to simple driftwood with no known anomalous properties.
Though typically docile, SCP-421 requires a regular supply of fresh wood to maintain its mass; the role of the shoal appears to be to locate suitable material and transport it to the main body, within which it rapidly becomes indistinguishable from the wider mass of driftwood. Sources of this wood vary; SCP-421 has been observed harvesting wood from shipwrecks and collecting material floating at the ocean surface. SCP-421 has also been recorded assaulting ships, with the shoal typically ramming against a single point below the waterline until the target capsizes before stripping the vessel of all wooden components within reach.
SCP-421 was first encountered in 197█, following the unexplained destruction of a yacht owned by [DATA EXPUNGED]. Survivors reported sailing through an unexpected mass of driftwood that appeared to be moving against the prevailing current; soon after initial contact with the mass, the yacht was holed and rapidly began to sink. Reports that the driftwood appeared to be dragging parts of the yacht beneath the surface were dismissed by local investigators but attracted the attention of the Foundation, who assumed responsibility for the case. An extensive underwater survey eventually found some traces of the wreck of the yacht; an estimated 80% of the vessel's wooden structure was missing.
Sporadic reports of similar incidents continued throughout the next two decades, during which time SCP-421 is believed to have been responsible for the loss of █-██ vessels a year. SCP-421 was captured in 199█ and moved to its current containment location. Since this date, █ reports of events similar to its attacks have been recorded. It is speculated that at least one more wild shoal still exists.
Addendum 421-A: During scheduled feeding on ██/██/20██ anomalous behaviour by SCP-421 was recorded. The shoal harvesting the provided wreck was estimated as 50% larger than normal, resulting in a far quicker assimilation of material into the main body of the SCP. Subsequent monitoring of SCP-421 revealed that the central mass had condensed into a denser configuration than normal and that the feeding shoal did not subsequently rejoin it, instead remaining in close proximity as a cloud surrounding the main body.
Two days after initial observation of anomalous behaviour, the central mass of SCP-421 was recorded settling close to the sea floor. A part of the shoal was observed to leave the cloud and begin moving around the compound in what has been described as an exploratory pattern, seemingly in an effort to retrieve any material not yet subsumed into SCP-421. Though it had decreased in density since the feeding, ultrasound monitoring of the main body appeared to indicate the formation of a solid structure within it, distinguishable from the standard mass of SCP-421 as not being in constant motion. On this basis, authorization was granted for the use of an ROV to examine the interior of the central mass.
Upon deployment of ROV ██-█ the SCP-421 shoal appeared to become agitated. ROV ██-█ was able to successfully penetrate the outer cloud surrounding the main body of SCP-421; contact was lost soon after. The wreckage of the ROV was subsequently drawn into the central mass of SCP-421; this is believed to be the first time SCP-421 has damaged a non-wooden vessel.
Investigation is ongoing.

« SCP-420 | SCP-421 | SCP-422 »


Item #: SCP-422
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-422 is to be contained in a 3.5 m x 3.5 m room. The room is to be kept bare, save for SCP-422's bedding, water bowl, and a dog toy provided by Dr. ██████.
SCP-422 is to be fed twice a day, on a strictly carnivorous diet. SCP-422 may be fed any type of raw meat, provided in portions appropriate for a medium-to-large size dog. All meat must be carefully boned, as consuming bone can cause [DATA EXPUNGED] and other anomalies with SCP-422's hide.
SCP-422 is to be monitored by security cameras placed in its enclosure, as well as two guards armed with tranquilizers stationed at the door. Though the creature has shown no interest in escaping or unprovoked hostility, it has the capability of doing so.
Description: SCP-422 is a large quadruped, 83 centimeters at the shoulder and weighing 53 kg, though size and weight vary minutely from day to day. SCP-422 is constructed entirely out of large pieces of the bodies of other animals, stitched in place with muscle fiber and trace amounts of cartilage. The creature's major organs appear to be composed of portions of other organs, though a given organ will only be made of portions of that type of organ (e.g., its heart is made of connecting chambers of other hearts). It has a flat face with two mismatched eyes- one green cat-like eye and one brown with a horizontal pupil like a goat. Its nose consists of two small slits just below the eyes, and its mouth is abnormally wide, stitched about the corners in such a way that it appears to be grinning. Its back legs are also much longer than its front legs, resembling a frog's legs with an abnormal number of joints.
SCP-422's body lacks stability. No patch or organ will stay the same for an extended period of time, with the shortest shift occurring after six hours and the longest after twenty-five hours. There is no pattern to these changes, though a single patch will not change more than once within an 18-hour period. The patches will occasionally respond to outside stimulus, such as producing heavy fur or thick leathery hides in colder conditions.
SCP-422's brain is constructed in the same fashion as its other organs, leading to the development of odd traits as different portions of its brain shift and change. Possibly due to the original construction, many characteristics remain consistent throughout shifts, including:
• Poor motor control
• Very poor short- and long-term memory, often unable to remember events from several weeks ago or even several minutes ago.
• Frequent deafness in one or both ears
• Numbness and lack of sensation in the extremities, including unnatural tolerance to pain
• Lack of facial recognition- will not recognize itself in a mirror or photograph and may even show fear of its own reflection.
• Colorblindness, though this diminishes as intelligence increases
Additionally, SCP-422's intelligence can range anywhere from that of an average house cat to a seven-year-old child, with the average being that of a five- or six-year old. Dr. ██████ has been keeping extensive records of daily fluctuations in SCP-422's intelligence, physical traits, and patch count. More information on Dr. ██████'s studies can be found at [DATA EXPUNGED].

« SCP-421 | SCP-422 | SCP-423 »


Item #: SCP-423
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-423 is contained in a 5 x 5 meter room containing three (3) 2 x 3 meter bookshelves. An incinerator is located adjacent. All personnel entering or leaving the room are to be searched for written material. Any written material must be checked for any trace of SCP-423 and then, if found clean, incinerated.
At night, SCP-423 is to remain in a small, plain journal marked 423. Failure to remain in this journal at designated times will result in loss of reading material outside of scheduled experiments.
Description: SCP-423 has no physical form. It appears to exist entirely within textual narratives. It was discovered in a used book store in ████████, Texas, on ████ ██, 19██, in a copy of Tom Sawyer. The book was purchased by Agent ██████, who located it during a routine search.
Agent ██████ brought the book back to Sector 28 as instructed. The book seemed perfectly normal except for the inclusion of a character named "Fred," who was not known to exist in any other version of the story. However, it was not until it was left by a copy of Moby Dick that the anomalous nature of SCP-423 became clear.
SCP-423 is able to enter textual narratives, inserting itself as a minor character. The details of the character vary from story to story, but it is always named "Fred," or something similar, and its role in the story is usually minor. Physical descriptions of the character are rare, but it usually appears as a human male of average height and middle years. However, this can change depending on the nature of the narrative. He has appeared as a student in narratives focusing on children (and thus presumably of an appropriate age) or even as a non-human in narratives where humans are absent or rare. At no time is his appearance remarked on as being unusual by other characters.
SCP-423 is able to move from one narrative to another voluntarily, provided the two works are within one (1) meter of each other. The process takes up to three minutes, depending on the length of the new narrative. The entire narrative changes at once, the text on all pages seeming to move. Occasionally, the length of the narrative changes; in these cases, the text grows smaller or larger to fit the page count of the book. It is only able to appear in physical textual narratives. It cannot enter electronic storage, or affect purely visual narratives. If placed in proximity to a graphic novel or other form of sequential art, it will change the text boxes and dialog bubbles, but will not affect the pictures. Similarly, illustrations in a textual narrative do not change, even if they no longer match up to the narrative as affected by SCP-423.
It prefers fictional narratives. However, it can enter any narrative that has characters, including anecdotes, biographies, and research notes (See Addendum 423-1).
It can re-enter a narrative that it has already exited. If it does so, the new narrative typically differs from the last time SCP-423 entered the story. However, it has displayed a preference for narratives it has not yet entered.
It is currently unknown what effect dying in a narrative would have on SCP-423, despite the best effort of researchers. SCP-423 displays a strong grasp of narrative principles, and is usually able to predict the best response in a given circumstance to avoid danger to itself. It has, however, displayed minor injuries. However, these seem to vanish when it enters a new narrative.
SCP-423 can be communicated with by coaxing it into a journal. It responds to questions written within, with SCP-423's responses appearing underneath the questions. When it transfers to another narrative, its responses disappear from the journal.
It has been largely cooperative since its containment. Its only requests so far have been for more narratives. It has expressed a preference for narratives with a large number of background characters, as this makes it easier for it to blend in and "watch the good stuff." It has been recommended that, should it become uncooperative, it be confined to the journal until it becomes more amenable to staff requests.
Researchers who desire more information on SCP-423 should read Experiment Log 423 A.
Addendum 423-1: Researchers are reminded that all physical written material is a potential habitat for 423, and that all notes should therefore be taken electronically. If written notes must, for some reason, be taken, be sure to check for addenda from "Guest Researcher Fred."
Addendum 423-2: The use of SCP-583 to destroy SCP-423 has been suggested. While the SCP is not slated for destruction at the present time, it has been noted should circumstances change.

« SCP-422 | SCP-423 | SCP-424 »


Item #: SCP-424
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: Samples of SCP-424 have been relegated to the laboratory of Dr. █████████, to be administered to by researchers Dr. Tidbury and Dr. Herman. The central contingent mass is allowed free run of personnel levels 2, 3, and 4 of Sector-28, as it has demonstrated an acceptable level of personableness, as well as basic understanding of the concepts of privacy and personal space. There are, however, isolated incidents in which these courtesies have not been observed by SCP-424, though not in such frequency as to merit additional containment procedures. Complaints are available to Level 3 Human Resource staff in Personnel Archive C-424.
Supplemental: Personnel are advised not to take violent action against SCP-424, due to the nature of its behaviour. If it becomes an annoyance, simply ask it to leave. If it refuses, file a complaint and report to one of my assistants. Thank you.
-Dr. █████████
Description: SCP-424 was discovered accidentally in early 2004 at a gas station in Campbell River, British Columbia. Documentation of discovery and capture can be found in Log #424-B, Files 424-1~10. SCP-424, at rest, appears to be a smooth, gelatinous mass, with equal black-and-white colouration. No patterns are observed to form on its surface while in this resting position, though the shades constantly shift position. In actuality, SCP-424 is a vast collection of microscopic organisms. Whether they function as a group, or by a single (or multiple) consciousness(es) is unknown, as samples taken display behaviour similar, yet independent, to that of the main mass. Origin of pigmentation is currently under investigation, but not prioritised under main research staff.
The central mass has a variable volume, and remains at a constant 34 degrees Celsius, regardless of the surrounding temperature. As far as can be determined, SCP-424 lacks detectable sensory features, though is capable of observing its environment by tactile, aural, visual, and olfactory means by methods still being tested and studied.
SCP-424 has the ability to mold and harden its malleable composition into the shape of any object or organism that it has previously “seen,” though is not capable of reproducing the colour or function (other than movement) of that form. It can also rearrange its pigmentation to suit the surface patterns of any new form taken, despite not being able to reproduce colour. For tests and examples, those with Level 2 Security Clearance should see Log #424-F, Files 424-1~10.
Addendum: Escaped sample of SCP-424 has proven that the organisms can survive digestion. Staff mugs are to be labeled and painted brightly to avoid future incidents.
Addendum: Neither the central mass nor any samples taken require solid or liquid nourishment. Working theory is that it/they thrive through constant motion, hence the constant shift of surface patterning when at rest.
Addendum: While SCP-424 is more than willing to take suggestions for shapes to imitate, it should be noted that it is not human, and is not likely to respond as such to physical gestures of intimacy. This is to be considered a general warning to resident staff, and disregard of such is grounds for transfer to facility [INSUFFICIENT SECURITY CLEARANCE] for immediate reassignment.
Addendum: Should SCP-424 become still or hidden enough to be unable to locate, it may be called by number, or enticed into view by offering it something to mimic (moreso if it is something that hasn't been mimicked yet). Other methods are not generally recommended.
Addendum: Movies of the “horror” genre have been removed from recreational equipment storage cabinets, in regard to SCP-424's reaction to the August, 2005 screening of “Aliens.” All ductwork is to be examined for any possible accidental fragments of SCP-424's main mass.
Relevant Files: ARCHIVE C-424: FILES 1~10

« SCP-423 | SCP-424 | SCP-425 »


Item #: SCP-425
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-425 is to be kept in a standard containment area lined with a Faraday cage. Most staff with a security rating above Level 2 are permitted to access SCP-425, the exception to this being staff who were born on days of the month that are multiples of 8 (e.g. 8, 16, and 24). Staff who were born on these days have proven to be susceptible to the negative effects of SCP-425.
Description: SCP-425 appears to be a 1958 Philco Tandem Predicta television set. It was first reported in 1963 by the owner of the unit, █████ ███████. Mrs. ███████ originally contacted the FBI regarding the SCP, stating that it had begun to behave erratically at certain times. She reported to the FBI that her son, █████ ███████, had begun having terrible nightmares and had scratched "∞ = 8" on the left side panel of the television set. Mrs. ███████ further reported that although she had unplugged the set, it continued to broadcast without power at certain times during the day. Embedded Agent ██████ became aware of the situation and brought SCP-425 to the Foundation.
SCP-425 was brought in and studied for six weeks by SCP staff with no conclusive findings. It was initially classed as Safe until 03/24/1963, when it turned on by itself and began "broadcasting." Of the five staff that were in the room at the time, four experienced a shared vision of what they described as "infinity." They also reported hearing an atonal sound that seemed to come from the walls. These four staff members, while somewhat alarmed by the experience, felt a general sense of well-being. They described the feeling as "knowing that there was something else out there beyond us." This description was repeated verbatim by these four staff members, who were separated and interviewed immediately after the event. They were given no time to speak to each other prior to the interview.
The fifth staff member (Subject Zero) provided a differing account of the experience. Subject Zero described a vision of moving extremely quickly through space to the event horizon of a black hole. The vision then took Subject Zero into and through the black hole, at which time he experienced "a crushing sense of oblivion." Subject Zero also described an atonal noise, but reported hearing whispering beyond the noise. Subject Zero was not able to interpret the whispering, but was sure that it was not English nor any other human language. Subject Zero was extremely shaken by this vision and the whispering and reported recurring nightmares for weeks following the event. Extensive psychotherapy assisted Subject Zero to some degree, but he would report having nightmares at least once a month. He also reported that he no longer took comfort in the company of others and felt lonely even with groups of friends. SCP-425 was classed as Euclid at this juncture.
Further study revealed that on the 8th, 16th, and 24th day of each month, SCP-425 broadcasts for a period of eight (8) minutes at some time in the evening, generally between 2000 and 2324. It will broadcast only once during this time. Early study by volunteer staff members resulted in mixed experience. Five staff were placed in the room containing SCP-425 and were asked to watch to see the results. It took fully six months of testing to determine that subjects who were born on the specified dates were susceptible to the negative experience stemming from SCP-425. Of the twenty-three (23) subjects who experienced the "Oblivion" vision, seventeen (17) had results mirroring those of Subject Zero, four (4) requested reclassification and amnesia treatment, one (1) left the site containing SCP-425 and was never seen again, and one (1) reported no ill effects. (See Addendum)
At this point SCP-425 was placed in a Faraday cage and no staff member born on one of the above-noted days has been permitted to access it. While in its enclosure, SCP-425 will turn itself on but will not broadcast. It is assumed that the broadcasts are non-terrestrial in origin, but efforts to pinpoint the source of the transmission have proven fruitless.
Addendum: On 08/08/1971, staff member ███ ██████ had what was described as a grand-mal seizure in the staff canteen. Medical scans showed that Mrs. ██████'s brain had a massive lesion in the shape of a nonagon in her parietal lobe. She was otherwise fit and there was no evidence as to how she suffered this injury. Mrs. ██████ was placed under medical observation. On 08/16/1971, Mrs. ██████ began to speak in an unknown language for a period of 8 minutes. When questioned, she was unable to explain why or what she had said. On 08/24/1971, Mrs. ██████ left her room in the medical wing, walked to the nearest blackboard, and drew an extensive and impressive astronomical map of an unknown region of space. After she completed the map, she collapsed to the floor and died. Autopsy results showed no biological reason for death, and study of her parietal lobe showed that the nonagonal lesion had ceased to exist.

« SCP-424 | SCP-425 | SCP-426 »


Item #: SCP-426
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: I am to be sealed in a chamber with no windows through which I may be viewed. The door to my chamber must have a label completely unrelated to my designation or identity, in order to prevent unintended spread of my primary effect. Only Level 3 and above personnel are to know of my presence, and particularly of my properties. Assigned personnel are to be rotated out on a monthly basis to prevent contamination by my secondary effect. Psychiatric evaluation is mandatory at the end of the month. If personnel are deemed unaffected, they may be re-assigned to me no less than four months after their last rotation with me. Any affected personnel are to be given a Class C amnestic and transferred to a different site.
Description: Hello, I am SCP-426. I must be introduced this way in order to prevent ambiguity. I am an ordinary toaster, able to toast bread when supplied with electricity. However, when any human being mentions me, they inadvertently refer to me in the first person. Despite all attempts, there is yet to be a way to speak or write about me in the third person. When in my continuous presence for over two months, individuals begin to identify themselves as a toaster. Unless forcibly restrained, these people will ultimately harm themselves in their attempts to emulate my standard functions.
I was discovered in the home of the ████████ family after the gruesome deaths of three of its members. I had been given to the younger Mr. and Mrs. ████████ as a wedding gift. No card or any other identifying markings had been found on my box. Approximately two months after the family received me, fire crews were dispatched to the home due to an electrical fire. The younger Mrs. ████████ died from the electric discharge that she had caused when attempting to devour an electric socket. The other two victims had died shortly before the fire occurred. The elder Mrs. ████████ had gorged herself with nearly 10 kg of bread before her stomach burst and she died of internal bleeding. The younger Mr. ████████ died of severe blood loss after attempting [REDACTED] with me. The sole survivor was the elder Mr. ████████ who was suffering from severe malnutrition. He stated that he had inserted some bread a week prior and was still waiting for the toast to pop out.
I was confiscated by the Foundation after police noted my unusual properties. A Class C amnestic was administered to the affected officers.
Experiment Log 426-1:
Date: ██-██-████
Subject: D-class personnel D/426/1
Procedure: D/426/1 was asked to describe what he believed was contained in my chamber. He was not informed about my identity or properties.
Details: D/426/1 stated, "I'm probably some huge monster holed up in there. That's what you guys have all over the place, right?" D/426/1 remained oblivious to his use of the first-person pronoun.
Experiment Log 426-2:
Date: ██-██-████
Subject: D-class personnel D/426/2
Procedure: D/426/2 was placed in my chamber and given regular meals through a dispenser. No communication with D/426/2 was permitted. Multiple cameras were situated in the chamber, positioned so that I was outside of their field of vision, but allowing constant observation of D/426/2. We remained sealed until my secondary effect manifested in the subject. I was bolted to the floor so that I could not be moved into a camera's view.
Details: After 45 days of isolation, D/426/2 wrapped his arm around me and began conversing with me, stating that we were brothers. D/426/2 never deviated from using the first-person plural when speaking with me. Subject was terminated one hour after this event. It is theorized that the isolation accelerated the progression of my secondary effect.
Experiment Log 426-3:
Date: ██-██-████
Subject: D-class personnel D/426/3
Procedure: A screw was removed from me and shown to D/426/3 who was asked to describe it. D/426/3 was not informed about my identity or properties.
Details: D/426/3 referred to it as "my screw". Consistent with Experiment 426-1, the subject was oblivious of his use of the first person in his description. This suggests that, even if I were destroyed, my effects would still be inherent in my remains.
Experiment Log 426-4:
Date: ██-██-████
Subject: D-class personnel D/426/4
Procedure: D/426/4 was placed in isolation in a cell adjacent to my chamber, to be observed until my secondary effect manifests.
Details: No effects appeared. D/426/4 was terminated 90 days after the start of the experiment.
Thank God there are some limits to my effects. A lot of us were really starting to get worried about me. - Dr. C███████

« SCP-425 | SCP-426 | SCP-427 »


Item #: SCP-427
Object Class: Safe* (see containment procedures)
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-427 displays no means of self-locomotion or malicious intent at this time, and requires only minimal containment. Due to SCP-427's adverse effects, only medical staff of Class 3 or above may handle or utilize it.
All personnel using SCP-427 must record their total time using it in order to avoid unwanted mutations.
*Instances of SCP-427-1 (colloquially referred to as "Flesh Beasts") created by SCP-427 must be killed immediately as it is impossible to communicate with or experiment on them safely. For this reason instances of SCP-427-1 are classified as Keter.
Description: SCP-427 is a small, spherical, ornately carved locket made of a polished silver material. The ornate carvings do not seem to serve any function; it is unknown whether SCP-427's outer casing was crafted by sentients or not. Its circumference at its widest point is roughly 3 cm.
SCP-427 was created after placing a pill of SCP-500 in the Input booth of SCP-914 and using the Fine setting. It displays no unusual activity when closed. When opened, a small glowing orb is visible at the center. The orb emits no radiation or energy aside from the visible spectrum.
When SCP-427 is opened and exposed to biological tissue, it rapidly regenerates cellular damage and somehow is able to purge invading compounds or infections. As a standard of measure, the common cold takes 3 to 10 days to be worked through the human immune system and eventually removed. In the presence of an opened SCP-427, this time is reduced to 2 to 4 minutes. Its healing abilities are directional, so anything not in line of sight with the central orb experiences no effects.
However, long-term exposure produces a significant health hazard. As the locket heals damage, it optimizes the body's natural systems. Resistance to disease and toxins is increased by 500% compared to accepted LD50 or death-rate values after a total of 10 minutes of exposure, and 1000% after 15. After 15 minutes of exposure, muscular systems begin optimizing, increasing strength and pain tolerance by 200-300%. All other systems continue to optimize. Class-D personnel exposed to the device for over an hour total began mutating into a shapeless mass of tissue. The conversion time accelerates with continued exposure to SCP-427.
The "Flesh Beasts" (so named due to their appearance) created by SCP-427 are incredibly aggressive, attacking any and all personnel on sight with lethal results. They are highly resistant to most known weaponry, but can be disabled with sufficient shock trauma or heat in excess of 1100 degrees Celsius (2000 degrees Fahrenheit). Intelligence cannot be accurately gauged, but mapping of biological enhancement of the brain as a direct relationship with optimization of other systems suggests intelligence could exceed levels measured in humans when fully transformed.
SCP-427 is currently being used as a partial replacement for SCP-500 pills, as it can cure almost anything SCP-500 is able to. All "optimizations" imparted by SCP-427 are cumulative. Oversight has deemed the side effects an "acceptable risk" but users must carefully record their total exposure time as sufficient mutations are grounds for termination.

« SCP-426 | SCP-427 | SCP-428 »


Item #: SCP-428
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-428 is to be contained in a five (5) meter x five (5) meter x five (5) meter cell. The containment walls are to be electrified with 30,000 volts. Entrance to the cell is via a corridor airlock and access to SCP-428 is restricted to Level-3 researchers and below, while escorted by two armed guards. Personnel are to keep two (2) meters minimum away from SCP-428 at all times. When not under research, two armed guards are to be on duty at all times.
Due to SCP-428's effects, all D-class personnel are to be screened for low IQs and skills that are deemed non-threatening to Foundation security or potential escape attempts (See Addendum 428-A). A single D-Class personnel due for termination is to be offered once per month to keep SCP-428 satisfied, however this will result in the need for an increase in containment space or for a solution to keep SCP-428 neutralised in the future.
Description: SCP-428 is, in appearance, a crowd of huddled human beings. As of 20/12/██ it consists of fourteen (14) people. While huddled in a circle, SCP-428 is to be considered in a ‘dormant' state. In this state, the crowd moves with a gentle sway and can be heard audibly mumbling. Upon further inspection, the biological internals (organs, bones, muscles and fluids, leaving only the skin) have been removed from each individual and replaced with an unidentified material that attaches to a central amorphous mass in the middle of the crowd via lengths of flesh similar to umbilical cords.
The crowd will not move away from this mass unless a person comes within two (2) meters of the central mass. At this point, the crowd will move into its ‘hostile' state. The ‘people' of SCP-428 closest to the person will attempt to grab and pull them into the middle of the crowd. After contact is made for more than ten (10) seconds, the person will become a new member of SCP-428. Their internal structures will be removed and replaced with the same material as the other members. Should the potential victim escape, SCP-428 will actively seek them, or another potential victim, out. It will attempt to absorb any and all human life within its immediate vicinity. When all human life has been absorbed and they have become members of the crowd, it will return to its ‘dormant' state.
If SCP-428 does not absorb a human being after a maximum of one (1) month, it will again actively seek them out. It will do this using a variety of different methods. This includes using acquired skills previously known by people it has absorbed. It will also use psychological tactics to lure people into its grasping distance. See Addendum-428-A
Wounds inflicted upon SCP-428's crowd heal at an accelerated rate and do not hinder movement; SCP-428 has been proven to be highly resilient. For instance, a bullet to the leg of a member of the crowd will become lodged but will not affect the individual's movement, and beyond the substance seeping through, the hole will close up within a few days. However, wounds inflicted upon SCP-428's central mass will cause a great deal of pain to the crowd. This will cause the crowd to collapse in apparent agony and SCP-428 will retreat from the cause of the injury, using the crowd to protect itself. This has since been used to herd SCP-428 back into containment. Should a connection between SCP-428 and a member of the crowd be severed, it will excrete the substance within it through all its natural orifices. A sample is currently being studied and the remains have been incinerated.
Note: SCP-428 has a hive mind. It therefore does not have the hindrance of movement that would be expected of a sizable crowd. It is able to move a large distance in a relatively short amount of time. It is only limited by the slowest member of the crowd at running speed. SCP-428 appears to maintain some of the memories, skills and talents of the people it absorbs and is willing to use these skills to gain further members.
Addendum-428-A: On ██/██/██, before the current containment procedures, SCP-428 managed to pick the lock of its cell using a hairpin and belt buckle from members of the crowd. It then positioned a female of the group slumped in front of the door, sobbing loudly. Researcher ████████, who was unaware of SCP-428's properties, approached the woman and was abruptly grabbed by the rest of the group. SCP-428 proceeded to move through the facility using Researcher ████████ as a frontman, resulting in █ casualties before the containment breach was alerted and SCP-428 was re-contained.
Researcher's comments: People, these casualties are gone, they are SCP-428 now. No matter what it might say or do, they are not your work colleagues nor your friends anymore. Remember this, it may save your life.

« SCP-427 | SCP-428 | SCP-429 »


Item#: 429

Level3

Containment Class:
safe

Secondary Class:
{$secondary-class}

Disruption Class:
dark

Risk Class:
notice

link to memo

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-429 is to be kept in a standard type 3 hazardous object isolation vault. SCP-429 is not to be handled unless an attempt to operate it is to be made. Care must be taken to avoid inadvertently touching any of SCP-429's controls.
Description: SCP-429 is a complex device constructed of brass and leather designed to fit over an individual's right hand. There are a total of 7 controls on SCP-429:

A lever that fits into the palm of the left hand. This is the main activation control and is depressed when the subject has finished setting their destination.
A round dial near the location control 1 meets the main device. The exact function is unknown.
A six sided dial at the front of the main device. This appears to be involved in broad location selection.
A round dial in the centre of the main device. This appears to be involved in fine location selection.
A lever across the clock face. The exact function is unknown.
A dial on the side of the clock face. This alters the clock face, although the function in selecting destination is unknown.
A switch on the side of the main body (not visible in filed image). Exact purpose unknown.

Examination of SCP-429's inner construction reveals a clockwork mechanism, connected to the exterior controls, which drives the clock face. On the exact physical duplicates of SCP-429 constructed by The Foundation, the controls are either not connected to the clockwork (controls 1, 5 and 7) or simply alter the displayed time at varying rates (controls 2, 3, 4 and 6).
When a subject wears SCP-429, they gain an instinctive understanding of its operation, although they do not gain the ability to convey this information to others. If the subject visualises a location and follows their instinctual understanding to adjust the controls, the wearer will disappear from their current location and simultaneously appear at the visualised location. Upon arrival, the controls save for 1 and 6 return to their original positions. Control 1 remains depressed until released and control 6 adjusts the clock face to local time. After activation, SCP-429 is inert until control 1 is released.
The subject does not perceive travel via SCP-429 as instantaneous. Each subject has reported a prolonged period of paralysis and blindness equivalent to the time it would take to travel in a direct line between the activation location and destination travelling at approximately 6-10 km/h. The biological needs of the activating subject progress as normal during this time. Therefore, journeys of more than 510 km are not advised due to the risk of dehydration. Suffocation does not appear to be a hazard, however.
The controls are highly sensitive and will move under the slightest pressure. If the controls are altered without the instinctive understanding granted by wearing SCP-429, it will disappear from its current location and reappear somewhere within 1.76 km, taking the individual who altered the controls with it. The time elapsed in such cases appears to be significantly higher than normal, with the activating subject typically arriving in a state of advanced decay.
On ██/██/20██, SCP-429 was activated remotely via a robotic arm equipped with a video camera and a range of sensor equipment. No data of any kind was recorded by any of the equipment save for the on-board timing mechanism, which recorded an 8 month, 5 day and 37 second time lapse.
SCP-429 came to the attention of the Foundation after a series of seemingly impossible burglaries. The Foundation examined CCTV footage and noticed an individual, believed to be SCP-429's creator, disappearing from sight shortly before each burglary. The individual appeared to be using SCP-429 for short jumps to access inaccessible locations. The Foundation pursued the individual across 3 continents over a period of 9 years before the individual was finally found having died of old age due to extensive use of SCP-429 in ████████, ████████.

« SCP-428 | SCP-429 | SCP-430 »