Item #: SCP-157
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: When not being used in an experiment, SCP-157 is to be stored in its cryptobiotic form, in a dry, airtight container. It is estimated that SCP-157 can survive in this condition for at least 10 years. Specimens needed for experimentation can be removed from storage and given water then food to restore them to a usable state.
Personnel working with an active SCP-157 colony are cautioned not to eat, drink, change clothing, or apply any substance to their body in the presence of SCP-157.
Foundation MTF agents are authorized to administer Class-A amnestics to any survivors or witnesses of wild SCP-157 attacks.
Description: SCP-157 is a previously unknown microscopic animal in the Tardigrade phylum, adapted to live on land as a predator. Like other Tardigrades, SCP-157 is extremely resistant to environmental damage, and can enter a cryptobiotic state when no food is present. SCP-157 normally exists as an amorphous mass composed of millions of individual organisms. In this form, it can slowly crawl and climb.
SCP-157 colonies are predatory, and can attack insects and small animals by engulfing them and then slowly dissolving their prey with digestive enzymes. Humans and other large prey are not normally attacked directly by SCP-157 colonies, as they are too large to engulf, and long-term contact is necessary for SCP-157 to successfully feed. The organism has developed an alternative method of achieving such contact.
SCP-157 colonies possess an innate telepathic ability. When in the presence of prey that is too large to directly attack, the SCP-157 colony will use telepathy to present the illusion of something its prey wants to eat, wear, or apply to its body. SCP-157 is highly toxic when eaten; someone having done so requires antidotes to [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] within 20 minutes, as well as immediate gastric surgery to remove the portion that was eaten. When applied to human/animal skin, SCP-157 will produce an anesthetic to encourage prey to ignore pain and leave the organism in place. It then dissolves and consumes the skin within 30 minutes to two hours. Dead prey is rapidly consumed and SCP-157 will grow significantly as it feeds. When reaching a size of 5 kg, SCP-157 will split into smaller colonies that move off in search of new prey.
When in the presence of two or more individuals, SCP-157 will have an inconsistent appearance – it may appear to be a food item to one person, and an article of clothing to another. This can serve as a warning and prevent exposure to the organism.
Addendum: Note that due to its resilient nature, SCP-157 can be split into smaller pieces, boiled, microwaved, etc. and remain alive and dangerous.
SCP-157 Capture Incidents:
Incident 157-01 █████ ██████, found with extensive scalp damage after mistaking SCP-157 for a bottle of shampoo and applying some to his hair. Victim was apparently immune to SCP-157 anesthetic and began screaming, attracting the attention of his wife, who had been eating a snack. “It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen – he had a pastrami sandwich on his head, and it was eating HIM!” Victim treated for chemical burns; SCP-157 captured alive; victim and wife given Class A amnestics and released.
Incident 157-02 ███████ █████, found partially consumed by SCP-157 in his office at ██████ Co., after apparently believing SCP-157 was a pair of socks and wearing them. Victim bled to death after feet and lower legs were mostly dissolved.
Incident 157-03 Standard monitoring of police reports revealed a missing persons case where the investigating officers observed a couch slowly attempting to crawl towards the door of the victim's apartment. Couch initially sealed in area by police; Foundation agents later determined it to be an unusually large variant of SCP-157 and contained the specimen. Amnestics administered. Although large enough to attack humans directly, this specimen prefers to use its telepathic ability to attract prey, in the manner of smaller SCP-157 colonies.

« SCP-156 | SCP-157 | SCP-158 »


Item #: SCP-158
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-158 is installed in Operating Theater 07 in Bio-Research Area-12. Personnel are not to be allowed in, nor is power to be supplied to the room, unless they have submitted, and had approved, a proper clearance requisition form to the Chief of Research Prof. █████. Personnel wishing to use the device must request and read the entire transcribed instruction manual in full. During the device's use, two (2) armed guards are to remain on standby outside the room at all times. In the event of an accident, all power must be cut to the room instantly, and guards are to examine the room carefully for any signs of misconduct. Misconduct will be punished in a manner decided by the Chief of Research on a case-by-case basis.
Description: SCP-158 is a large mechanical arm, similar to one that one might find in an automotive factory, although the end attachment is unusually shaped, resembling a pointed tridactyl claw. Its optimal placement is to be installed and suspended upside down, its base attached to the ceiling in a room that has been built to accommodate. A series of cables are protruding from the base and some are connected to a complex mobile console, complete with VDU (Visual Display Unit) and full keyboard. The others should be connected to a working power supply if the device is to be operated successfully. At the bottom of the console, there is a dispensing device, with attachments for a container roughly 7.6 cm (3 in) in width, and 17.8 cm (7 in) in height.
The arm, cables and console have sustained fire damage, though this is purely cosmetic, and does not affect the device's performance.
When activated, the device will take twenty (20) minutes to boot up and become fully functional.
When used correctly upon a living organism that displays cognition, SCP-158 will remove an unknown substance and transfer it through the dispensing device beneath the console. The optimum container for this substance is a glass jar or beaker that fits the attachments. After this action is performed, the organism that it was performed on will cease all higher brain functions, with only the activity in the brain stem continuing. The subject will not respond to external stimuli, and will not exhibit any movement beyond basic reflex actions.
The substance removed is gaseous, though its overall appearance and properties differ from subject to subject. The substance is an indefinite source of kinetic, electrical, heat, and light energy. Although the rate and output, again, differ from subject to subject, the average is relatively low.
The device was found in late 2007 in █████, ███████, within a burned out hospital that had been in apparent disuse for a large, discernible period of time (rough estimations would put it at over five years). Along with the device was a badly damaged "owner's manual" which contained instructions on how to use the device. These instructions have since been transcribed and copied numerous times, with a single copy always present in the containment room. While the instructions clearly state how to maintain and use the device, the chapters chronicling who built it and what exactly it did were too badly damaged to be read, requiring a process of trial and error to find it (see Experiment Log 158-AA).
Additional Notes: The device is also capable of reversing the extraction, placing the same, or a different, substance back into the subject (see Experiment Log 158-AG). When this action is performed, the subject will regain all cognitive and higher brain functions, but the total results differ, depending on whether or not it was the original substance extracted from the patient that was replaced.
Addendum-01: Dr. ██████████ suggests experimentation with D-class personnel and electronic equipment, to attempt to reproduce SCP-168, SCP-1875, SCP-2306, or similar phenomena. (Pending)
Addendum-01A: Inspired by the previous Addendum, Regulator █████ has hit on the ingenious notion of using SCP-158 on a test subject, then exposing the body to SCP-217 until the virus runs its course, and finally re-injecting the contents back into the transmogrified body. ███████ and █████ are extremely excited about this proposal, and have arranged a meeting with all twelve of the ██████████ to discuss the far-reaching benefits of such a technique.

« SCP-157 | SCP-158 | SCP-159 »


Item #: SCP-159
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-159 is currently kept in a Secure Storage Locker at Site-██. Knowledge of SCP-159 is restricted to those of Level-3 or higher, and access is restricted to Level-4 or higher. SCP-159 may not be used by any personnel except for extenuating circumstances. O5 command may order SCP-159 to be moved at any time that it becomes necessary to use SCP-159 to prevent a destructive scenario.
In the event that SCP-159 is utilized in this way, it is to be powered by a dedicated high-efficiency generator and a spare supply of fuel is to be kept on hand. There is to be at least two personnel on standby during SCP-159's operation at all times.
Description: SCP-159 has the appearance of a standard neon sign reading 'OPEN', of the style commonly found in small businesses. When SCP-159 is displayed through a window of a building, and deactivated by removing it from a standard power outlet1, the building will become impossible to enter by any means. The locking effect ceases immediately when SCP-159 is reattached to a power outlet. If SCP-159 is switched OFF and then removed from its power outlet, its effect will not activate.
When SCP-159's locking effect is active, the structure which it is displayed within will become effectively indestructible from the outside. Building materials will withstand forces that would normally destroy them, up to and possibly surpassing moderate artillery bombardment. The affected structure will remain completely undamaged; testing has shown that protected structures will be unharmed by heat, hurricane-speed-winds, kinetic force, undermining, tunneling, explosive charges placed on the outside of the structure, electrical current, microwave, ultraviolet, X-Ray, neutron, and gamma radiation, and vehicular impact. Persons within a structure affected by SCP-159 may leave at any time, but may not re-enter until 159 is deactivated. The effect persists if windows, doors, and other portals are opened, with outside forces continuing to yield as if they were closed.
Buildings affected by SCP-159 will continue to receive utilities such as running water and electricity; however, supplies will be strained of foreign materials and chemicals upon entering SCP-159's boundaries. Additionally, a buffering effect appears to prevent forces such as shockwaves and extremely high heat from penetrating the surface of the affected building. D-Class within the structure during artillery tests reported that the concussive forces rendered by test weaponry was greatly muted to the point that an open container of water did not react.
If a piece of SCP-159's tubing expires, it may be replaced by a matching part. SCP-159's effect will manifest whether or not there is neon tubing installed. Personnel are to replace SCP-159's neon parts if they fail. SCP-159 will fail to activate if it is unplugged during a power outage.

Footnotes
1. As opposed to utilizing the ON/OFF switch,

« SCP-158 | SCP-159 | SCP-160 »


Item #: SCP-160
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-160 is kept in a secure bio-containment chamber at Site ██. SCP-160 is to be fed live prey in the form of a rabbit or other animal of similar mass once per week, with feeding to be performed via automated delivery system only.
Experimentation with SCP-160 may only be performed with prior permission from at least two (2) Level 3 personnel, and any personnel entering the chamber must wear an armored suit at all times.
Description: SCP-160 appears to be a quadriflyer unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV) with a diameter of approximately 1.1 m at its widest point, similar to the [REDACTED] model manufactured by the [REDACTED] Corporation. It is devoid of any identifying marks or manufacturing labels, though visual inspection of SCP-160 has revealed signs of scratches and other superficial damage indicating that prior identifying labels may have been removed.
SCP-160 operates continuously and completely autonomous from any identified control source, and exhibits behavior similar to that of predatory birds. It will actively hunt prey such as rodents and other small animals and, upon locating such prey, dive down at high speed and impale its prey with what appears to be a metallic proboscis. Analysis of its prey shows that it then injects a highly caustic substance that liquefies the internal organs, and extracts the resulting slurry. SCP-160 will generally avoid humans and larger animals, but has been recorded using its proboscis in self-defense. Injuries inflicted by SCP-160 are extremely painful, and can cause death via liquefaction of vital organs or internal bleeding.
Further research on SCP-160 is underway, but has proven difficult due to SCP-160's continuous operation. Tranquilizer darts are ineffective as SCP-160 appears to be entirely composed of non-biological components, and requests to attempt a low-intensity electromagnetic pulse to disable it have been rejected due to possible unforeseen damage.
SCP-160 was discovered by Foundation agents on █/██/200█ following multiple reports of household pets from the town of [REDACTED] disappearing and subsequently being found dead under unusual circumstances. SCP-160 was quickly identified and lured into a transport vehicle by a containment team and subsequently taken to Site ██. A search of the area turned up over ██ desiccated small animals including house cats, rabbits, wild rodents, and miniature dogs.

« SCP-159 | SCP-160 | SCP-161 »


Item #: SCP-161
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: All three instances of SCP-161 are to be kept in separate containers in containment locker 34 Zeta. Each container is to be triple locked, with all nine keys to go to separate members of the Senior Staff. Once every three months, each individual instance of SCP-161 is to be removed from containment. Current scheduling allows for only one instance to be removed in any given month.
When removing SCP-161, the remover is required to not be a member of Senior Staff; however, they are to be accompanied by the three members of Senior Staff with the keys, at all times that SCP-161 is out of containment. The remover is to be dressed in a full environmental suit, with extra reinforcement around the wrist joints, to avoid contact. The Senior Staff accompanying the remover are to be dressed similarly.
Before removal, a cell is to be set up for activation of SCP-161. Two D-Class will need to be requisitioned. One D-Class is to be strapped into a chair, immobilized, their left arm at a right angle to their body. It is imperative that their wrist be locked in, so that they cannot turn their hand, or move the angle of SCP-161. The second D-class is to be strapped to the wall directly in front of the first D-class's hand.
When removed, SCP-161 is to be immediately moved to the prepared room. SCP-161 is to be placed into the locked hand of the immobilized D-Class. Once the D-Class has activated SCP-161 once, it is to be removed from them, and returned to containment. Both-class D are then to be returned to general populace, but are never to be assigned together.
Description: There are currently three copies of SCP-161 in Foundation control. SCP-161 appears to be a brightly colored, plastic, child's pinwheel, with a "The Factory" Stamp on the back.
SCP-161 only displays its unique properties when held in the bare hand of a human being. Approximately three to seven seconds after grasping SCP-161, the holder will find himself made aware of how to activate the device. From this point on, the holder is completely convinced that SCP-161 is capable of emitting energy pulses, of varying strength. This conviction only affects the bearer, as no one else can see these pulses, nor do they appear to do any actual damage.
However, anything the wielder 'destroys' with these energy pulses becomes no longer capable of affecting the wielder, even when no longer in contact with SCP-161. Walls affected by the energy pulse can be walked through by the wielder, and living beings so affected not only cannot touch the user, but anything wielded by said beings will be unable to touch the user of SCP-161 as well.
A minor side effect causes the wielder of SCP-161 to develop megalomania and delusions of grandeur.
Addendum 1: Original procedures altered when a security guard with no prior knowledge of SCP-161 broke into the containment locker and began using it freely. After security contained the breach, researchers discovered that if SCP-161 were not used occasionally, the artifact would begin to radiate a telepathic lure. The lure would affect those with low self-esteem and willpower, and call them to SCP-161. At that point, they would take the artifact in hand, and begin to use it as described.
Addendum 2: A junior researcher attempting to cultivate the approval of Senior Staff noticed an unusual trend in beings and objects supposedly destroyed by SCP-161. Investigation into beings affected by SCP-161 before containment revealed all of them had committed suicide, many within a year of being affected. A review of objects affected by SCP-161 showed that, while many were still standing, most had fallen apart, and those still together showed signs of decay many years in advance of where they should be.
A review of researchers who had been affected by SCP-161 revealed that over fifty percent of them had since died. Of those that remained, interviews consistently contained the idea that 'life just wasn't fun anymore.' As of this finding, SCP-161 is now exclusively to be used on Class-D's, and never near support walls.
Use of SCP-161's effect for the acquisition of SCP objects that create an environment hostile to terrestrial life, including SCP-2933, has been proposed by several research staff. Final Approval Pending Approval Denied.

« SCP-160 | SCP-161 | SCP-162 »


SCP-162 in its containment chamber.

Item #: SCP-162
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-162 is to be kept in a sealed steel container at all times. Any handling is to be done with thick steel-plate gloves and heavy body armor. Any personnel attempting to touch SCP-162 without proper protection, or acting in an erratic or non-responsive manner, are to be immediately removed from the containment area. All personnel are to submit to mental testing and review for two weeks after interaction with SCP-162.
Description: SCP-162 is a mass of fish hooks, fish line, needles, scissors, and other sharp objects in a rough ball shape close to 2.4 m (8 ft) in width and 2.1 m (7 ft) in height. After being in SCP-162's vicinity, subjects have reported feeling drawn to the object in order to touch it. This desire can extend for several weeks after seeing the item, becoming an obsession in many cases. The "draw" increases the more SCP-162 is observed, and subjects will become violent towards anyone attempting to restrain or remove them from SCP-162.
Touching SCP-162 will immediately result in several hooks becoming embedded in the subject's skin. The experience is extremely painful, much more so than normal fish hooks. Struggling or attempting to escape will ensnare the subject more, likely resulting in the subject's complete entrapment on the surface of SCP-162. Subject will bleed profusely, resulting in death after a prolonged period of time. Subjects whose skin is impenetrable to SCP-162's fish hooks, such as SCP-1063, have proven to be immune to SCP-162's compulsion effects.
Attempting to remove a subject from SCP-162 will result in the entrapment of the remover, or gross bodily harm to the subject's flesh. Subjects will many times "cycle" between expressing extreme pain and requesting assistance, to statements of pleasure and requests to be left alone, even attempting to grab and entangle personnel attempting to rescue them. Activation of SCP-1114 within the proximity of SCP-162 has proven to be an effective means of freeing a subject from entrapment, though SCP-162's compulsion effect still remains.

« SCP-161 | SCP-162 | SCP-163 »


Item #: SCP-163
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-163's enclosure consists of four adjoining rooms, 3 m from floor to ceiling, with the following attributes:

One 5 m x 5 m receiving room with an airlock and seating appropriate for both SCP-163's and human morphology.
One 5 m x 3 m storage room capable of storing SCP-163's isolation suit, tools, and games.
One 20 m x 15 m workshop and dining area which contains all salvaged technology, including SCP-163-1.
One 5 m x 5 m sleep area and rest facility, furnished with seating and bedding fitting SCP-163's morphology.

Air is filtered into the enclosure and is automatically monitored at all times by computer and once daily by staff, to check for impurities. Filters are to be changed weekly or any time impurities are found in the air. Two separate lighting systems are used in the enclosure: One which produces radiation between 400 nm and 700 nm and one that produces radiation between 150 nm and 300 nm. The primary lighting system is to remain active at all times to facilitate observation. The secondary lighting system may be turned on or off at SCP-163's discretion. At no point are forbidden elements and chemicals to be introduced into the enclosure above prescribed proportions listed in Manual M-163-1. Personnel, and any items brought with them, will be checked for traces of these chemicals prior to being allowed access to the enclosure.
Personnel are to wear isolation suits at all times while in the enclosure to protect themselves and SCP-163 from cross-contamination. Before being granted clearance to enter the enclosure, personnel are to study Manual M-163-2 and submit to an interview with Dr. ████████. Cleared personnel are permitted to interact with SCP-163 by assisting it with repair of equipment and by playing board games with it.
SCP-163 may leave its enclosure at any time. It must first announce its intent to leave the enclosure through an agreed-upon gesture, and don its isolation suit. The suit contains the same air filters used to cycle the air in the enclosure. In order to facilitate vision, SCP-163 may carry a UV flashlight capable of producing radiation wavelengths of no less than 280 nm, in order to keep risk of skin cancer among personnel to a minimum. When roaming the facility, SCP-163 is to be accompanied by a junior researcher who is to record all actions, gestures, and expressions with a video camera. The escort is to also bar SCP-163 from any areas deemed dangerous to it.
Once every three (3) days, personnel are to deliver to the receiving room a 20 L container with chemical elements in proportions listed in Manual M-163-1. SCP-163 will take the container and pour its contents into SCP-163-1. The empty container is then placed in the airlock for retrieval.
Equipment may be removed from the enclosure only when in the presence of SCP-163. If SCP-163 interferes with the removal of a piece of equipment, the item is to be placed back in the area from which it was taken. At no point is SCP-163-1 to be disassembled, operated, or removed by personnel, under any circumstances. Any attempts to do so will result in severe discipline.
Description: SCP-163 is a sapient organism of extraterrestrial origin. When standing, it is 2 m tall and 1.5 m wide, the bulk of the body being suspended 50 cm from the ground. The body is roughly cylindrical with a circular mouth at the bottom, the equivalent of a head at the top, and eight three-jointed legs arranged radially around the equator. SCP-163 also has a series of specialized limbs, listed here:

Two prehensile feeding apparatus on either side of the mouth.
Two arms near the top of the body, used for delicate manipulation.
Two larger arms located closer to the legs, used for heavy manipulation and lifting, and capable of producing a steady force of approximately 500 N and a striking force of up to 2000 N.
Two appendages of indeterminate function located between the legs and mouthparts which had been amputated prior to SCP-163's discovery.

30 cm from the top of the body is a single semi-compound eye which extends in a ring around it, allowing a full 360 degrees of vision. There is a blind spot at the back of the head to make way for an organ used for elimination of bodily waste. The compound eye is separated into 88 units. The most likely hypothesis is that each unit receives only vertical information while the brain intuits horizontal information by comparing input from the different units. The eye is sensitive to light wavelengths between 150 nm and 300 nm, equivalent to UVC which is harmful to most terrestrial life.
SCP-163 contains an endoskeleton which consists of tissue similar in chemical composition and structure to cellulose. The skeletal structure protrudes from the uppermost joint of each leg and appears to have been blunted by mechanical means. No pain response is exhibited when samples are taken from these protrusions. The skin is transparent to visible wavelengths of light, but opaque to ultraviolet. Blood samples taken have an oxygen and carbon dioxide transport system based on nickel, rather than the iron or copper used by terrestrial organisms, and is green in colour. Analysis of blood and tissue shows that SCP-163's cells use DNA for instruction, with the standard GCAT bases; however, a different method is used to interpret said instructions. Sets of three bases still code for amino acids, but they are not the same ones that are coded for in terrestrial cells. In addition, some terrestrial amino acids are not present in its biology while others that it uses are not present in Earth's biosphere, allowing for dramatically different protein arrangements.
SCP-163's home environment would have contained different proportions of elements, compared to that of Earth. This is evidenced by its sensitivity to certain common elements and its resistance to other less common ones. [REDACTED], a heavy metal poisonous to terrestrial life, is used in SCP-163's metabolism. Iron and calcium, though not used by SCP-163, causes no harmful effects to it. Exposure to █████████████ in any chemical form causes damage to tissue. ███████ and ███████ are as harmful to SCP-163 as they are to us. A full table of safe and unsafe chemicals, along with dietary requirements, is contained in Manual M-163-1. Furthermore, the atmosphere would have had different proportions of gasses. SCP-163 is able to survive in our atmosphere for some time without mechanical aid, but will begin to show signs of illness after one hour. Air that is filtered to remove certain common terrestrial elements will prevent such an event. Analysis of SCP-163's technology includes searches for hermetically sealed chambers which may contain evidence of its home atmosphere.
It is unknown how SCP-163 communicates complex ideas. The only vocalization produced by it is a steady sinusoidal wave of approximately 15 Hz when in certain emotional states. There is no variation to this vocalization, which can last from 15 seconds to 10 minutes. It is recommended that personnel exposed to this sound remain in well-lit conditions to prevent feelings of paranoia. Emotions are primarily displayed by the dome of tissue above the compound eye. Different states correspond to distortion of furrows in the skin by subdermal muscles. In addition, a negative and affirmative gesture have been noted. An affirmative consists of the rapid beating together of SCP-163's delicate manipulators while a negative is the same gesture performed by heavy manipulators. Specific information on gestures and emotional states is contained in Manual M-163-2.
SCP-163-1 appears to be a universal life support device. It is able to convert basic chemical elements into sustenance for SCP-163, in addition to originally projecting the phenomenon in which SCP-163 was found. To ensure the continued health of SCP-163, study of SCP-163-1 is forbidden until after the death of SCP-163. The function of other equipment is still not fully understood. The technology is limited to crude transistors assembled into various specialized analog computers. Many physical processes that these computers model do not correspond to anything known to modern science. It is theorized that SCP-163-1 relies on some of these processes in order to function.
SCP-163 was first discovered by miners in the Andes Mountains on ██-██-20██. The rock strata in which it was found are approximately █████████ years old; shocked minerals in the vicinity indicate that its spacecraft had crash-landed. The miners reported coming across an impenetrable mirrored surface which abruptly disappeared after enough rock was removed from it. The description suggests that this is a larger version of the phenomenon produced by SCP-163-1. Despite being encased in stone for █████████ years, the contents of the chamber showed no sign of age or degradation, believed to be an effect of the phenomenon. Approximately 30% of the equipment had been looted before agents could reach the scene. Though some have since been recovered, there are many items still at large. Agents are continuing to scour the black market for any further clues as to the whereabouts of the missing technology.
When agents took control of the scene, SCP-163 was still encased in the reflective sphere produced by SCP-163-1. The relative simplicity of SCP-163-1's interface allowed agents to quickly de-activate it. Agents were forced to subdue SCP-163, which was violent at the time. Aside from this initial confrontation, SCP-163 has cooperated with the Foundation, to the extent of its ability to understand us.
The following are select experiments performed on SCP-163. A full list of experiments and results is contained in Manual M-163-2.
Experiment Log 163-46: Facial recognition.
Date: ██-██-20██
Subject: SCP-163
Procedure: Dr. ████████ entered the enclosure of SCP-163 carrying thirty (30) 11x17 cards with images printed on them with UV-absorbing inks. Images were representations of human faces of varying complexity. SCP-163 was shown these images from least complex, a "smiley face", to most complex, a photograph of Dr. ████████.
Details: SCP-163 was not able to recognize the "smiley face" which human infants are able to immediately emulate. It was not until the eighteenth image that SCP-163 reacted by taking the card and placing it over the front of Dr. ████████'s faceplate. Image 18 had exaggerated facial features which included a nose, eyes, ears, and an open mouth showing a row of straight teeth. Image 17 was identical but with a closed mouth.
Experiment Log 163-47: Facial recognition.
Date: ██-██-20██
Subject: SCP-163
Procedure: Dr. ████████ entered SCP-163's enclosure carrying twenty (20) 11x17 cards with images printed on them with UV-absorbing inks. Images were representations of the top of SCP-163's body, ranging in complexity from an isosceles triangle to a photograph of SCP-163.
Details: SCP-163 did not recognize the first card as a member of its species. The second card, depicting an isosceles triangle with a horizontal line going through the middle, elicited a response. SCP-163 took all of the cards from Dr. ████████ and looked at each in turn. It then sorted the cards into two stacks, one which contained six images, including Image 1, and one which contained the remainder, including Image 2. It is hypothesized that the first stack includes images which can not be recognized as SCP-163's species while the second stack has images that can. The presence of the photograph in the second stack supports this hypothesis.
Experiment Log 163-80: Altruism test.
Date: ██-██-20██
Subject: SCP-163
Procedure: Dr. ████████ entered the enclosure carrying two wooden blocks and a box capable of holding both. Dr. ████████ opened the box and moved one block into it while feigning great effort. After closing the box, Dr. ████████ moved the second block toward it, again feigning effort, and awaited a response from SCP-163.
Details: SCP-163 opened the box for Dr. ████████ after 10 seconds of him attempting to place the block inside while the lid was closed. The result is consistent with the same experiment performed on human children.
Experiment Log 163-88: Higher functions.
Date: ██-██-20██
Subject: SCP-163
Procedure: Dr. ████████ entered the enclosure with a cart containing an easel, five canvases, assorted brushes, and a selection of pigments which reflect different ultraviolet frequencies between 150 nm and 300 nm. Dr. ████████ briefly demonstrated the act of painting, using three of the pigments, before handing the brush to SCP-163.
Details: SCP-163 immediately began painting with the provided pigments. The image produced was of a landscape containing unrecognizable plants and animals, according to UV imaging. SCP-163 remained still for seven minutes after completing the painting before knocking it from its easel and retreating to a corner of the receiving room. Cranial ridges indicated distress. All further attempts at interacting with SCP-163 failed until Dr. ████████ attempted to remove the painting supplies from the enclosure. At that point, SCP-163's heavy manipulators were protruded from between its legs and indicated the negative gesture. The following day, SCP-163 was seen painting on a new canvas.
Addendum 163-88:
As of this date, fresh canvases, paints, and brushes should be provided to SCP-163 whenever its supplies begin to go low. This is the first truly meaningful communication we have been able to understand. At the very least, we may be able to learn more about the ecology of its homeworld. -Dr. ████████
Addendum 163-93:
The odds of SCP-163 having been discovered at all are mind-boggling, given the size of the Earth. A number of factors would have had to come into play, including plate tectonics, development of terrain by humans, and just plain old dumb luck. I am filing a recommendation that all excavations of █████████-year-old strata be monitored by agents for more members of SCP-163's species. I find it hard to believe that we just happened to come across the one single spacecraft that crash landed on earth millions of years ago, at a time when we are just beginning to develop the capacity to recognize the importance of such a find. There must be others hidden in stasis somewhere down there. -Dr. ████████

« SCP-162 | SCP-163 | SCP-164 »


Item #: SCP-164
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Cultures of SCP-164 should be contained using standard Class-3 biohazardous procedures, and stored clearly marked within a refrigerated biocontainment unit at 10 degrees Celsius. While pathogenic, SCP-164 is not highly infectious; while researchers working with raw cultures or infected subjects should use caution, latex gloves and face masks are generally effective at preventing the spread of the disease. Any personnel inadvertently infected will be subject to six months of chemotherapy upon first showing symptoms, and surgery as necessary.
Civilian outbreaks should be handled using cover-up procedure Alef-█ for contagious materials.
Description: SCP-164 is a strain of cancerous cells that causes sarcoma-like tumors in host bodies. While cell DNA appears to be primarily derived from human DNA, the cells now effectively exist as unicellular, asexually-reproducing parasites. Several characteristics make SCP-164 remarkable:

SCP-164 is the only parasitic (transmittable) cancer known to infect human beings. Strains are transmittable through, in order of infectiousness: blood contact, sexual intercourse, skin contact, and airborne contact. Chemotherapy and surgery are effective in treating the disease in nearly all stages.

Tumors produced by SCP-164 that grow larger than a certain size will, in 75% of cases, follow normal behavior for cancerous sarcomas. However, in 25% of cases, host bodily materials will be utilized for the creation of a new, separate organism inside the tumor. In the case of multiple tumors, some or all may follow this behavior. Said organisms will apparently begin as zygotes (fertilized ova) and replicate, much like fetuses. Externally, this appears no different from normal tumor production, and may go unnoticed in initial stages.

Oddly, mature organisms identify as being completely unrelated to the original tumors, corresponding with a previously unknown species of order Teuthida (squids). Removal of organisms shows they are entirely viable in marine conditions, and will perform normal actions such as locomotion, catching food, basic defense, reproduction, et cetera. However, said organisms will also remain entirely viable in the original tumor, rarely moving or shifting position, continuing to grow at a regular rate until the host is killed. The existence and nature of the organisms (SCP-164-2) is often not realized in civilian cases until biopsy or surgery reveals the developed organism.
SCP-164 organisms and tumors may interact with host physiology in interesting ways. The following cases are particularly notable:

Female D-Class, 23 years old: SCP-164 tumors spawned on uterus walls. Host body apparently recognized the tumor as a human fetus, and was delivered normally containing viable SCP-164-2 specimen after 9 months.
Male D-Class, 30 years old: Tumors spawned on the spinal cord, disrupting the central nervous system. As a result, movement from SCP-164-2 would occasionally cause subject's limbs to flail, suggesting a “cross-wiring” of the nervous systems of the two organisms. Biopsy lent support to this hypothesis.
Male D-Class, 25 years old: Tumors spawned near the esophagus and windpipe of the subject, in a location that with ordinary growth would normally have blocked off said passages and quickly killed the subject. Instead, the growth of the tumors shifted to the back of the neck, preventing subject from dying before the normal point. Doctor █████ suggests that this may have been a deliberate action taken by SCP-164.

« SCP-163 | SCP-164 | SCP-165 »


SCP-165 escapes from the heat of the sun in an abandoned building

Item #: SCP-165
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: Housed in a facility at Armed Bio-Containment Area-14, SCP-165 is to be treated as a contagious, pathological organism. The highest sterilization and quarantine procedures are to be followed.
Microwave field generators around SCP-165's area are in place to restrict movement of its dune within its containment area. Once every nine (9) days, SCP-165 is fed live cattle weighing at least seven hundred fifty (750) kilograms.

Description: The organic component of SCP-165 resembles that of typical parasitic mites, seven hundred fifty (750) micrometers in length, with eight (8) legs and a genetic structure similar to the house dust mite. The main difference is the hermit-crab-like behavior of attaching grains of sand to its back. It is unknown what purpose the sand serves, but the massive colony of SCP-165 numbers in the hundreds of billions to possibly trillions, creating a rather large dune.

An electron microscope image of SCP-165

The similarities between [DATA EXPUNGED] and SCP-165 are only superficial. [DATA EXPUNGED]'s colony is protozoan in nature and apparently shows a collective intelligence and awareness that is not understood. SCP-165's colony is made up of individual Acari who don't show cooperation but rather competition in the hunt for food. Like mosquitoes, they rely on chemical detection of carbon dioxide and sugars in the air to detect prey. The Acari mites roll and bound over one another toward prey, only using their legs to climb over one another. When in contact with the flesh of animals, they release a numbing chemical toxin in their bite, similar in make-up to that of mosquito and flea bite toxins. Subjects are typically unaware that millions of mites are 'taking turns' at grabbing mouthfuls of its flesh as they swarm around their victim.
A typical swarm resembles a swirling vortex around a victim or victim's appendage. The SCP-165 colony is efficient enough in their competitive swarming that most animals' appendages can be de-fleshed and reduced to bone within minutes. The numbing toxin is so effective that sleeping victims may not wake up as their limbs are eaten away.

These images, taken before containment, were made using an unmanned ground traversing drone

The Acari mites are resistant to all but the most dangerous of pesticides. They retreat from heat and will often seek shade when available, being the most active during the night, hunting for large sleeping prey. Their vulnerability to heat is the most preferable technique for containment.

Addendum - Acquisition: It is apparent that the US Government has been aware of dunes of SCP-165 for some eighty (80) years. The area where SCP-165 was found is now a forgotten German immigrant ghost town of Fredricksburg, Arizona, in the Tule Desert near the Goldwater Air Force Bombing Range.
The remote town of Fredricksburg was founded sometime in the late 1800s and by 1908 had become a ghost town. A passing cavalry troop reported that the inhabitants had disappeared and that the buildings were empty. They attempted to stay one night in the abandoned hotel, only to have seven (7) of their horses reduced to piles of bone. All but four (4) of the soldiers fled in the middle of the night, saying that sand was filling the building like a flood of water. Those four were never seen again.

The most complete standing building of Fredricksburg, Arizona, was home to the largest dune of SCP-165

During the late 1950s, the U.S. military attempted to exterminate SCP-165 by turning the area into a bombing range. It was successful in reducing the numbers of SCP-165, but in the late 1980s, it became apparent that a ground cleanup and extraction was needed to remove the presence of SCP-165. Mobile Task-Force Epsilon-9 (aka "Fire Eaters") were dispatched for containment and extraction of SCP-165. Upon entering the town of Fredricksburg, an upturned sign was found, reading "Vorsicht vor dem kriechenden, hungrigen Sand" which translates to "Beware the creeping, hungry sands." The flame accelerators of MTF Ɛ-9 proved highly successful in glassing the sand of SCP-165 and reducing its number to a manageable size. A living dune of nearly four (4) metric tons of SCP-165 was contained and transported to ABC Area-14 where it is monitored and contained.

**IMAGES RECOVERED FROM MTF Ɛ-9**

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Photograph '165-P1'; Fredricksburg, AZ, United States - █████ ██, 198█

Photograph '165-P2'; Fredricksburg, AZ, United States - █████ ██, 198█

Photograph '165-P3'; Fredricksburg, AZ, United States - █████ ██, 198█

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« SCP-164 | SCP-165 | SCP-166 »


Item #: SCP-166
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-166 is contained in Biocontainment Zone C at Site-19, which has been modified to include a hermetically sealed antechamber and an industrial-strength air purifier. Containment staff must wear the specially designated 166 biohazard suits at all times when inside SCP-166's containment area.
Due to SCP-166's unique physiological needs, a variety of loose fitting organic cotton clothing has been provided, to be rotated monthly. All meals are to be cooked according to the guidelines provided, with as little inorganic additives as possible.
Reasonable requests for personal items and modifications to the containment suite may be granted upon approval by a Level 4 or higher authority. Update: All requests by SCP-166 must be approved personally by Site Director Light. To date, SCP-166 has requested:

A copy of the Holy Bible (Douay-Rheims, Challoner Revision) (granted).
A Catholic rosary (granted).
Access to a Catholic priest for confession, mass, and other sacraments. (denied) (Chaplain Davis has been scheduled to meet with SCP-166 on alternating Sundays after a thorough decontamination process)
Various books and magazines, mostly religious in nature (granted, pending review and approval of contents).
A telephone with which to contact the Abbess of the Our Lady of Mercy Convent in County Galway, Ireland (denied) (granted) (overruled by order of the Site Director, denied)

Description: SCP-166 is a European female human in its late teens with ungulate features; possessing antlers, hooved feet, and a short tail reminiscent of Rangifer tarandus (Common reindeer). Despite these obvious abnormalities, DNA analysis reveals no abnormal genetic traits.
Within a fifteen-meter radius of SCP-166, artificial objects gradually return to an unworked state. Higher complexity objects like electronics or vehicles are affected quicker, with degradation of their metallic components causing catastrophic structural failure in a matter of hours. Rudimentary materials, such as stone buildings or products made of organic materials, decay at a virtually imperceptible rate. Within the same radius plant life will begin to sprout, often growing in improbable places such as out of security cameras or ID scanners.
SCP-166 possesses a possibly anomalous sensitivity to artificial material and pollutants, with inhalation or contact causing pressure ulcers and symptoms of acute asthma attacks. In one case, physical proximity to a smoker caused SCP-166 to undergo a severe asthma attack, even though the doctor at the time had not smoked a cigarette for three weeks.
Discovery: SCP-166 was discovered at the Our Lady of Mercy Convent in County Galway, Ireland, where it had lived since infancy. SCP-166 was confirmed by a defecting Global Occult Coalition agent to be the child of Threat Entity 9927-Black ("The Goddess"), also known as SCP-████, who was terminated by a GOC strike team in what would be known as the Cornwall Incident.

Recovered GOC Documentation

-

Threat Entity Database Entry
Threat ID:
KTE-9927-Blackchild "The Daughter"
Authorized Response Level:
4 (Severe Threat)
Description:
Threat entity is the child of incarnated LTE-9927-Black ("The Goddess") and an unknown father. While it strongly resembles its mother and shares its animalistic features, it lacks the extreme bestial appearance of 9927-Black. Possesses minor chlorokinetic abilities, but primary reason for threat entity classification is the instinctive knowledge and eligibility to enact Occult Procedure Clockwork Blackchild Havilah, a world-wide ritual working that would irreversibly regress human civilization to Neolithic standards.
Strike Team "Lancelot" neutralized 9927-Black in 19██ in England during an operation which would later be known as the infamous 'Cornwall Incident', but were unable to confirm the liquidation of 9927-Blackchild due to the death of the strike leader, Agent Ukulele. Ukulele was posthumously awarded the Silver Aegis for his lifelong service to humanity.
Liquidation:
Threat entity is not known to possess any defensive abilities. Terminate with extreme prejudice.

The agent had refused to terminate SCP-166, instead smuggling it to a Catholic convent in County Galway, Ireland. It lived there until the age of 12, at which point a visitor to the convent accidentally witnessed SCP-166 and reported it to authorities. The agent then contacted the Foundation, agreeing to share GOC intelligence in return for the guaranteed safety and containment of SCP-166.
Further details are classified.
Addendum 166.1: Chaplain Davis biweekly interview

Davis: Good morning, child.Davis: As usual, I have to remind you that due to our environment, the seal of confession will not take place unless specifically invoked. Even then, details of our conversation can be unsealed if they're determined to be essential. Understand?
SCP-166 nods.
Davis: Excellent. Now, how are you doing?Davis: Ah, yes, that was rather unfortunate, but it does make sense. He was rather old even when he first took up the position. Now he can rest, knowing he served the Church well.Davis: Speculation has abounded, but it could be anyone. These are difficult times after all, with all the recent… controversies. They may want a fresh face to represent the church, or they may go with a man who's dedicated years of his life. Who knows, they may even pick a working-class man. It certainly would give people something to talk about.SCP-166 and Davis sit in silence.
Davis: I'm sensing a question arising, child.Davis: No need to apologize. That is what I'm here for, after all. What is it?Davis: My mother, yes. Before she passed away, I visited her once a month at the retirement home, plus her birthday and holidays. Told her I was a chaplain serving in the military, which I suppose is somewhat close to the truth.Davis: That is a rather more complicated question. He was a good man, a soldier who held three things dearly: God, Country, and Family. Unfortunately, he held those convictions rather severely, which resulted in some… heated discussions. I love him still, but this way is best for everyone.
Davis sighs.
Davis: And what about your parents? I know you lived in the convent, but before that?SCP-166 gestures to herself.Davis: I'm sorry for your loss.Davis: And your father?
SCP-166 hesitates.Davis: I'm sure he had his reasons.SCP-166 pauses.[END LOG]

Addendum 166.2: Disciplinary Interview of [REDACTED]

[BEGIN LOG]
Light: What the hell were you thinking?
[REDACTED]: I wanted to make sure she's alright. You wouldn't let me talk to her. I took another route.
Light: What you did was so much worse than that. If you just stuck to throwing your weight around to get her amenities, sure, I could overlook that. But you then go about trying to give a class 4 anomaly a phone line to the outside world- Dammit. The council already dislikes you working at the same site as her, this gets out, you can kiss whatever deal you made goodbye.
[REDACTED]: Come on, Sophia! She's harmless. The only reason she's in there is because of me. I had to do something. Was the Foundation just going to let her grow up thinking that her-
Light: Before you say another word, remember that this will be public to everyone with a class 4 clearance. I can redact your name, but I can't stop people from putting the pieces together from an ill-timed outburst.
[REDACTED] remains silent.
[REDACTED]: Sixteen years. Sixteen years where she couldn't walk through a city, or catch a movie, or just go shopping. Doesn't matter if she's in a convent or a foundation cell, she's being locked up for something she had no choice in. All because of me. It isn't fair.
Light: I know.
[REDACTED]: And I can't do anything about it. I could send a strike team anywhere in the world, I know secrets that the most powerful people in the world would pay billions for, and yet I can't even so much as talk to her, let her know that she's not alone.
Light: You've done the best you could. Much more than anyone could've expected of you in an impossible situation.
[REDACTED]: Funny how little that makes of a difference. I-
[REDACTED] falls silent.
[REDACTED]: You know, I don't care. Just write me up. Let's just get this over with.
Light: …I'm scheduling you for six 2-hour sessions with a Foundation psychologist, I'll make sure it's Glass. He signs off at the end of it, we can expunge this from your record.
[REDACTED]: Mhm.
Light: [REDACTED].
[REDACTED]: Yeah?
Light: …
[REDACTED]: …Yeah, I know. Thank you, Sophia.
[END LOG]

On 05/08/2013, the following note was discovered within SCP-166's containment area.

████,

I first met your mother when we were little more than children. She had hooves for feet and starlight in her eyes. She was beauty and nature incarnate, and I killed her with my own two hands.

Eden isn't a place. It's a state of being. They wanted to take us back to it, and I stopped them. I took paradise away from us for a second time. I have never regretted my actions on that day, except one: that when you first met me on that day, you saw your father put a bullet into the head of your mother. I make no excuses, only explanation. You may not have even remembered it, but I'm telling you now in the hope you understand why I did what I did. I hope you forgive me.

I love you. I wish I could have done more for you. The best I could do was leave you in the hands of kind and loving people and hope they would raise you in my place. From what I've seen, they did well. I'm sorry you couldn't stay with them. I'm sorry they've brought you to this place. I promise to do my best to make sure your stay here is pleasant. I promise to keep you safe.

Happy sixteenth birthday,
From your loving father.

« SCP-165 | SCP-166 | SCP-167 »


Item #: SCP-167
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-167 is currently kept in Room ██ of Research Command-06. Its door is to be padlocked at all times when not under study. Anyone wishing to obtain the key to conduct unscheduled exploration of or to study SCP-167 may do so only with the permission of the relevant level 3 personnel assigned to this SCP.
Description: SCP-167 is a cube measuring approximately 10 meters on its edge, created from an unidentified shiny white-plastic polymer. Affixed to one of the faces of the cube is a large metal door. It is unknown if this door is part of the original SCP, or if it was affixed by someone else before the object was acquired by the SCP Foundation. The interior dimensions of this cube are identical to the exterior, minus several centimeters for the width of the cube — except that two of the remaining three walls each have doorways in them. These doorways lead directly to identical rooms, each with two more doorways leading to more identical rooms. This pattern continues for as far as the research teams have been able to determine. The placement of these doorways appears to be random; no pattern has been found that explains which two of the three remaining walls have doors.
SCP-167 shows signs of being explored before — a number of rooms, especially those at a low depth, have red dots or other markers painted next to the doorway back to the entrance. Researchers have recently taken to replicate this behavior on any rooms they visit, after the events mentioned in document #167-08. Additionally, several man-made and natural objects have been found scattered in some of the rooms of SCP-167: religious idols, circa 500 BCE; several treasure chests, circa 1500 CE; [DATA EXPUNGED]; and several SCPs, most notably [DATA EXPUNGED].
Addendum 167-01: SCP-167 does not appear to follow the rules of Euclidean geometry. A different path to rooms which should be the same room was taken by two researchers. Both arrived at their destination, but neither saw nor heard the other. How SCP-167 is warping space to create this effect is unknown, but warrants further study.
Addendum 167-02: A request to test the effects of SCP-184 on SCP-167 has been suggested. This experiment is under consideration.
Addendum 167-03: A request to use SCP-167 as a compact storage space for benign SCPs has been proposed by Dr. █████. This proposal requires a reclassification of SCP-167 to Safe class, so a re-evaluation is pending.
Document #167-08: As most of you are aware, Dr. ██████ was videotaped entering SCP-167 several days ago without the requisite ball of twine, and he has not yet returned. His ultimate fate is unknown, but the search teams have turned up nothing. Let this be a reminder to all of you just how easy it could be to get lost in there if you don't utilize some method of marking your path. If I find that any other researcher has disobeyed the safety regulations and entered without a ball of twine, no matter how far deep they intend to go, they will find themselves being transferred to another facility for researching Keter-class SCPs, where they should have ample motivation to learn to follow safety regulations quite quickly. —Dr. Klein.

« SCP-166 | SCP-167 | SCP-168 »


Item #: SCP-168
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-168 is to remain in observation room 221-D of Sector-28. It should be propped at the full angle that its casing allows, facing the unshuttered window provided. The entrance is to remain locked, with entrance available by request. Based on prior research, it is not to be used as a normal calculator would. Discussion with SCP-168 is encouraged, but is to be limited to a maximum of one hour per day; no exceptions.
Description: Found resting on a desk during clearance of the condemned ██████ Elementary School building in 199█, SCP-168 is a Hewlett-Packard brand graphing calculator, model #HP-28C. Upon initial inspection, it was discovered that the name “Eric” was carved into the inside of the removable casing. However, upon inputting a simple equation (6÷3) and pressing the “=” button, the screen of the device went blank for 3 minutes and 34 seconds, after which the “alternate key” function engaged, displaying the message; “WHAT TIME IS IT?”
For a log of the conversation, those with Level 2 Security Clearance should see Addendum: Report E-12.
Though not altogether mobile, SCP-168 has displayed signs of action when personnel are not present. It also possesses both vision and hearing, though how these processes work is currently unknown. For more information, refer to Addendum: Report E-18. This evidence has led to petitioning to upgrade the object to Euclid class, justifying more secure arrangements for containment.
Document #168-1: Interview E-12
Recorded log of dialogue between SCP-168 and Dr. Howard, dated January 14, 2008:
(Replies from SCP-168 are to remain capitalized, to indicate non-vocal communication and preserve authenticity. SCP-168 is also incapable of forming punctuation marks, save for period, comma, and question mark)

[BEGIN LOG]
Dr. Howard: Can you hear me?Dr. Howard: Do you have a name?Dr. Howard: May I call you 168?Dr. Howard: Good. How long have you been alive, 168?Dr. Howard: Being able to think.SCP-168 pauses for approximately two minutesDr. Howard: Why did that take so long?Dr. Howard: Moving on. There is a name carved into your casing. Who is Eric?Dr. Howard: I don't know where he has gone, 168.Dr. Howard: Was Eric your owner?Dr. Howard: Alright. Do you function as a calculator should, 168?Dr. Howard: May I try using you to calculate an equation? Something like two plus two?Dr. Howard enters “2+2”, and hits the “=” key. The answer “4” appears on SCP-168's screen instantaneously.
Dr. Howard: May I try another one, without telling you what it is first?Dr. Howard enters “264÷8”, and hits the “=” key. The answer “33” appears on SCP-168's screen after 12 seconds.
Dr. Howard: Why did that take so long, 168?Dr. Howard: I think that's enough for today. I'll talk to you again tomorrow, 168.Dr. Howard: There is no window in this room, 168.Dr. Howard: I'm afraid not.[END LOG]

Document 168-2: Report E-18
Upon entering storage room 185-D to continue testing with SCP-168 on the morning of January 15, 2008, I discovered the only table in the room upended, with SCP-168 resting next to it, in an upright position. Its screen read; “HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT? TEACH YOU TO LEAVE ME IN THE DARK ALL DAY. JERK.”
Attempts to communicate with SCP-168 after that point were ignored. I suggest that we move it to room 221-D if we want to get anything actually useful out of it.
-Dr. Howard

« SCP-167 | SCP-168 | SCP-169 »


Item #: SCP-169
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: Because of its size, SCP-169 cannot and almost certainly will never be contained—no structure on Earth is large enough or strong enough to contain SCP-169. The location of SCP-169 is not precisely known, but imaging satellites and analyses of eccentricities in the Earth's orbit suggest SCP-169 is located in the southern Atlantic Ocean, possibly stretching around the tip of South America (see Addendum 0-20).
Any satellite footage of a shift in the landmasses produced by SCP-169 is to be excised and destroyed by embedded agents.
Description: SCP-169 is surmised to be a marine arthropod of enormous size, known as the "Leviathan" by generations of sailors and oral history. Presumed at first to be a myth, SCP-169 was detected on ██/██/19██ by Mobile Task Force Gamma-6 during an investigation of paranormal activity around the █████ █████████ archipelago (coordinates ██°██'S ██°██'W). During Ɣ-6's investigation, Dr. ████ ████████ [Ɣ6-0912] discovered the archipelago to have moved at least three (3) kilometers from its original location. Though initially Dr. ████████ believed this motion to be due to unusually-quick continental drift, a reconnaissance mission performed by the USS ████████ revealed the archipelago to be the protrusions of rock-like plates covering an enormous organic mass. The Foundation was brought in immediately to begin threat management.
Dr. ████████ and Dr. ██████████ [Ɣ6-0421] estimate SCP-169's body length to be between 2000 and 8000 km. The creature is thought to have existed since the pre-Cambrian era. No other specimens have been sighted. Almost nothing is known about SCP-169's habits, such as its reproductive capabilities (if any), food source, and nesting area (if any). Research regarding SCP-169 is pending approval.
The archipelago known as the █████ █████████ Islands have historically been uninhabited, though claimed by ███████ in 17██. Upon handover to the Foundation, ███████ presence was evacuated on the pretense of rising sea levels. Though the archipelago has remained above sea level for several millennia, any change of depth by SCP-169 could result in the disappearance of the entire archipelago. SCP-169 moves slowly, less than one kilometer per week, but seems only to be adrift. Its method of propulsion is unknown. Regular seismic tremors seem to indicate "breathing" about every three (3) months, causing minor shifts in the islands' terrain, suggesting that the creature is probably dormant.
Information Suppression: The USS ████████ was scuttled with all hands immediately after the discovery of SCP-169 with the permission of the American government. The public is forbidden from entering the archipelago created by SCP-169 due to the conveniently large number of resident endangered bird species. As indicated above, satellite footage is to be doctored in order to suppress knowledge of SCP-169's movement. NASA is currently cooperating with the Foundation in keeping the existence of SCP-169 quiet, and is currently permitting the Foundation use of their satellites for photographic use.
Addendum [0-20]: In 199█, the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, an American scientific agency unaffiliated with and unaware of the existence of the Foundation, detected an ultra-low-frequency underwater sound emanating from around ██ºS ███ºW, approximately ████ km from the southwestern coast of South America.

Despite the best efforts of embedded agent ████ ████████ [IA-1522], news of the sound leaked to the media, receiving significant media coverage. Foundation analysis concluded that a massive underwater organism was the source of the noise, and SCP-169 was hypothesized to be its source, as its "head" is well within the possible locations of the rest of SCP-169. The sound confirms Ɣ6-0421's hypothesis that SCP-169 is gargantuan in size. Future efforts by scientific or civilian teams to determine the source of the noise must be stopped by any means necessary.

« SCP-168 | SCP-169 | SCP-170 »


Item #: SCP-170
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedure: SCP-170 presents no danger, and as such can be contained safely in any secure storage locker. However, due to the potential misuse of the substance, as well the limited quantity of SCP-170 available, no personnel may remove it from storage without prior approval from Dr. ███.
Description: SCP-170 appears to be a standard tube of superglue, in a yellow tube 13 cm long. There is no manufacturer information or any other text on the outside of the container, apart from the word 'SUPERGLUE' printed in bold letters on the front.
Whenever any amount of the substance is applied to solid material, and that solid is put in contact with any surface, both objects lose molecular cohesion in the area surrounding the contact points, allowing one to be pushed through the other. The effect lasts only moments, however. Within a third of a second of the two surfaces making contact, the ability of each to pass through the other is nullified, leaving both permanently bonded together.
SCP-170 was seized in a raid on an illegal laboratory in ████████, ███, in 19██. The unusual properties of SCP-170 were unknown until a standard test on all seized materials was performed on it. A laboratory technician used a pipette to extract a small amount of SCP-170 for analysis. Upon attempting to dispense the substance onto a slide, the pipette immediately passed straight through the slide, which was on a mount. Further tests were run upon the pipette/slide, and it was discovered that they were bonded on the molecular level. Upon hearing of this, SCP personnel were dispatched to confiscate all seized materials.

Notable tests
Test 04:
Test materials: 1 x heavy duty chain, weights of various sizes.
Procedure: A small amount of SCP-170 was applied to the last link of the chain, which was then bonded to the reinforced ceiling of containment area 17f. Weights of various sizes were then hung on the chain to determine the structural failing point of the bond.
Results: After approximately 9 metric tons were suspended, the chain finally snapped, but not at the bond point. It snapped at the 9th link from the bottom. All links apart from the one embedded in the ceiling were tested and showed signs of distortion and stretching. However, the bond point in the ceiling showed no sign of weakness or separation of chain and ceiling.
Test 07:
Test materials: 2 x identical cubes of 24 carat gold (as close to 100% pure as possible)
Procedure: Using robotic arms to ensure perfect alignment, cube 1 (the cube with SCP-170 applied) was pushed completely through cube 2, leaving what appeared to be 1 gold cube equal in size to either of the original cubes.
Results: Upon examination of the sole remaining cube, it was found to have a density of 38.6 grams per cm3, which is precisely twice the density of gold. Even melting the sample did nothing to change this, as the resulting liquid gold also had the same density. This implies that the substances don't displace each other - every atom is accounted for. Analysis of the atoms has proven that they are regular gold atoms, implying that they don't undergo nuclear fusion to accomplish the increase in density. The atoms are simply packed into a smaller space than the laws of physics would seem to allow.
In light of this experiment, Dr. ██████ has requested permission to use SCP-170 to 'glue' two pieces of uranium together to make a more fissile sample. Due to the obvious safety concerns this poses, this request was denied.

X-ray of subject's finger bonded to the desk (post amputation). The fracture was caused by the subject struggling to free himself.

Test 12:
Test materials: 1 x D-class personnel, 1 x wooden desk.
Procedure: First test using live biological subjects. D-class personnel had a small amount of SCP-170 applied to his right index finger, and was instructed to "poke the desk".
Results: Subject's finger sank into the desk up to the first knuckle. Despite obvious panic, the subject reported no pain, discomfort or sensation below the bond point. However, his finger quickly began swelling and turned purple, as his circulatory system continued pumping blood to an area that could no longer return it. Finger was amputated between the first and second knuckle.
Test 19:
Test materials: 1 x Pratt & Whitney F100 jet engine, the reinforced ceiling of containment area 19b.
Procedure: SCP-170 was applied to the jet engine mountings, which were quickly pushed 3.2 cm (approximately 1.25 inches) into the ceiling of the chamber. After connecting an appropriate fuel supply and control system, the jet engine was fired.
Results: The engine was run continuously at high speed for 40 minutes, while cameras monitored the join point for any signs of stress. While small cracks appeared in the concrete around the join point, there were no indications of any possible structural failures or separation of the two materials, even under a force of 120,000 newtons.

« SCP-169 | SCP-170 | SCP-171 »


Item #: SCP-171
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: A 4500-liter pool of sea water located at Bio-Research Area-12 is the current research location of SCP-171. Though not immediately dangerous, minimal physical contact between secretions of SCP-171 and its hosts are to be observed. All communications between hosts and researchers are to be recorded and transcribed. Human hosts are to be fed a vegan diet of their choosing. Other animal hosts are to be fed appropriately. Fresh sea water is to be cycled into its tank regularly.
Description: Originally, SCP-171 was thought to be a colony of microscopic organisms similar to SCP-968 or SCP-165, but further investigations revealed SCP-171 to be a single entity spanning 300 square meters when first encountered. SCP-171 is a web-like matrix of small, fine tendrils of neurons, mucous glands, and muscle fibers suspended in a frothy foam of its own creation. It is not capable of self-locomotion and does not actively attack or feed on other living organisms; rather, it attempts to form a symbiotic relationship with all organisms it comes into contact with.
Flagella of the muscle surrounding the neural fibers work mucus, sea salt, water, and other secretions into bubbles, forming a large foam support. Any creature that spends a significant amount of time in contact with the matrix of SCP-171 risks becoming integrated into a collective consciousness sustained by it. People who become covered in SCP-171 foam describe a "tingly" or "tickly" sensation experienced, which researchers have observed as threads of SCP-171 tunneling through the skin to directly integrate into the subject's nervous system. In time, the simple motor neurons of subjects are expanded into an elaborate, two-way positive communication nexus, allowing the brains of hosts to communicate with each other and the entity of SCP-171. Over time, the individuality of subjects are incorporated into and shared with others of the SCP-171 matrix, resulting in a collective consciousness in which individual personalities are non-existent.
There are currently 19 human subjects host to SCP-171 (11 civilian, 8 class D personnel). Subjects are capable of traversing the foam without losing conscious contact with the collective as neuroreceptors on the subject's skin form to allow chemical communication between the subject and SCP-171 much in the same way terminal axons communicate with dendrites in the brain. These receptors on the skin look like small white to clear moles, slightly raised and very sensitive to touch. Some subjects disappear into the foam of SCP-171 and are not seen again for several months. It is unknown how they survive without fresh water or sustenance.
Other hosts include: 2 Australian porpoises (originally 4), 4 beach gulls (3 have been euthanized), 41 fish of various species (euthanized for study), 27 beach crabs (euthanized for study), and 1 canine. Within two hours, most subjects begin forming neuroreceptors on the skin and receiving neural contact with SCP-171. After three hours, a psychological bond has been established between subjects and the collective. After 6 hours, a complete integration and dependency on the collective has evolved. At this point, removing the subject from contact with SCP-171 results in manic and violent behavior along with eventual complete psychological breakdown of the individual, leading to a vegetative state of mind (4 individuals have been lost in this manner).
When interviewed, all subject hosts speak with the same core collective consciousness as if they were parts of a single entity. The collective is aware of itself and its composure of diverse individuals, and even laments the loss of each individual persona. SCP-171 tells researchers that it understands what it is, but not where it came from, explaining that its own intelligence and the intelligence of the hosts it incorporated were too simple to understand or remember its origin. Researchers noted the change in SCP-171's personality after integrating Class D personnel and chose not to allow inclusion of violent, ill-willed, or malevolent personnel from that point on. SCP-171 has expressed that through meditation and understanding, it chooses to avoid the consumption of other animals when possible.
Addendum 171-1 SCP-171 was first encountered by beachgoers and surfers on August 12, 2007, along the Australian coastline near Yamba, New South Wales. When civilians playing in the foam began experiencing abnormal skin conditions, CDC officials contacted SCP personnel when they were unable to explain the anomaly.
Addendum 171-2 Personnel who wish to be voluntarily integrated with SCP-171 must first be subject to a complete psychological evaluation to ensure sound mental health, with special emphasis on possible disconnection from humanity and potential suicidal tendencies. They are to be repeatedly warned that such integration is permanent, and that no evidence exists to show that SCP-171 in any way exhibits a state of 'higher consciousness', or indeed a consciousness significantly different from our own. If subject persists in wishing to be integrated, and has been shown to be making the decision in a state of sound mind, then they are to be permitted to do so.

« SCP-170 | SCP-171 | SCP-172 »


Item #: SCP-172
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Any personnel wishing to access SCP-172 must receive written approval, and undergo a one-hour training session. All interaction with SCP-172 must be overseen by at least one class 4 operative, who may end the session at their discretion. Any and all records, drawings, or correspondence produced by SCP-172 are to be submitted immediately to Dr. █████ for review. Reasonable requests made by SCP-172 are to be granted after approval by Dr. █████. SCP-172 is allowed out of its containment area with approval, as long as it is accompanied by an armed class 4 operative.
Armed personnel are to be stationed at the door of SCP-172. Should SCP-172 attempt to escape, it is to first be asked to cease and desist, and then led back to its containment area. Containment area is to be kept stocked with paper, pencils, and any additional components requested by SCP-172. Tables, chairs, and any additional furnishings requested by SCP-172 are to be provided pending approval by Dr. █████. Upon entering its dormant state, SCP-172 should be placed in its transportation box until re-wound.
Description: SCP-172 appears to be a human being, 34 years of age, 185 cm (6 ft 1 in) tall, black hair and mustache, 175.5 kg (386 lb), and of Russian descent. SCP-172's personality is very friendly and intelligent, if somewhat dull and repetitive. SCP-172 prefers dress from the 1860s, and always wears a large, ornate key on a long necklace. SCP-172 has never identified itself by any name, and is not upset by being referred to by its designation number.
Internally, SCP-172 is a staggeringly complex automaton, possessing over two million moving parts, and eighteen million components at last count. Component parts appear to be made of glass, silk, wood, steel, brass, rubber, and several other substances. Similarity between this construction and that of SCP-2776 suggest a similar creator or creators. SCP-172 also has several "modules" that can be installed via a hatch in its chest. These appear to alter behavior, speech, movement, and several parameters based on position in the body cavity and module components. SCP-172 has 46 modules at current count, having built three of these while in Foundation custody. Currently, SCP-172 is loaded with the "engineer" module. Modules have been identified by SCP-172 as "caretaker", "soldier", "medic", "mother", and "king", though this is by no means a comprehensive list (refer to Document #172-2). Under no circumstance are modules to be replaced without O5 level authorization.
SCP-172 is powered via a mainspring, which is wound with the key in SCP-172's possession, after inserting it into a hole at the base of the neck. SCP-172 can operate for eight hours on a single full "wind-up." SCP-172 appears wholly human when in operation, and is capable of all basic human functions. SCP-172 has no need to eat, breathe, or sleep, but will perform all these functions if allowed to do so. SCP-172 is extremely obedient, and will follow any instructions given to it to the best of its ability.
SCP-172 does not view its existence as strange, and asserts that it is human even when shown its internal components. SCP-172 is also extremely delicate, and great care must be taken to preserve and maintain its function. SCP-172 has also shown a level of mechanical skill nothing short of miraculous. SCP-172 is capable of analyzing and copying any mechanical device it comes in contact with. This was first shown when it became apparent that locks of any kind cannot contain SCP-172. It has also made several copies or "upgraded" versions of SCP technology, all based on incredibly complex clockwork. Most notably, [DATA EXPUNGED].

Document #172-4R: Notes on recovery of SCP-172
SCP-172 was recovered after the Great War, in a chamber below a former vacation home of the Czars. Exposed due to stray bombing, the chamber and its contents were badly damaged, but SCP-172 was found intact in an iron crate, along with many "modules" and its key. Item was removed by operatives, and "wound-up" inside testing facilities. SCP-172 appeared to wake up from a deep sleep, and proceeded to greet everyone present in Russian. When Agent ████████████ shouted in surprise, SCP-172 pushed against its chest, and repeated its greetings in English. SCP-172, when questioned, stated that its last memory was playing with a young boy. The boy left, and SCP-172 began to feel "very tired," so it returned to the box. It has no memory of its creation, creator, or name.

« SCP-171 | SCP-172 | SCP-173 »


Item #: SCP-173
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Item SCP-173 is to be kept in a locked container at all times. When personnel must enter SCP-173's container, no fewer than 3 may enter at any time and the door is to be relocked behind them. At all times, two persons must maintain direct eye contact with SCP-173 until all personnel have vacated and relocked the container.
Description: Moved to Site-19 1993. Origin is as of yet unknown. It is constructed from concrete and rebar with traces of Krylon brand spray paint. SCP-173 is animate and extremely hostile. The object cannot move while within a direct line of sight. Line of sight must not be broken at any time with SCP-173. Personnel assigned to enter container are instructed to alert one another before blinking. Object is reported to attack by snapping the neck at the base of the skull, or by strangulation. In the event of an attack, personnel are to observe Class 4 hazardous object containment procedures.
Personnel report sounds of scraping stone originating from within the container when no one is present inside. This is considered normal, and any change in this behaviour should be reported to the acting HMCL supervisor on duty.
The reddish brown substance on the floor is a combination of feces and blood. Origin of these materials is unknown. The enclosure must be cleaned on a bi-weekly basis.

« SCP-172 | SCP-173 | SCP-174 »


Item #: SCP-174
Object Class: Safe Euclid, see Incident 174-A
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-174 is to be contained within Storage Unit-07 at Site-19. Removal of SCP-174 from containment requires the approval of two (2) Level-4 personnel familiar with the entity. It is preferable to use personnel with high Psychic Resistance Scale scores when interacting with SCP-174. All personnel in contact with SCP-174 are to undergo psychological evaluation; those who display obsessive or protective tendencies toward the item are to be treated with Class-B amnestics and monitored for 72 hours.
Addendum to containment procedures, ██/██/20██: Following Incident 174-A, SCP-174 and the main chamber of Storage Unit-07 are to be monitored at all times via video surveillance. Abnormal activity must be reported to Dr. A█████████ immediately. Furthermore, a GPS tracking device is to be installed on SCP-174 in order to expedite recovery should the item translocate outside of Foundation custody.
Description: SCP-174 is a wooden ventriloquial figure measuring 53 cm from head to toe, with somewhat ragged clothing and slight damage to several sections. Judging by the item's style and state of repair, it dates from the early 20th Century. The eyes and mouth of SCP-174 can be manipulated by means of a mechanism inside the figure.
When viewed in peripheral vision, subjects report on occasion that SCP-174 is looking directly at them with an expression of longing or sadness. When subjects look directly at SCP-174, this anomalous expression is not visible. Viewing SCP-174 indirectly, such as in a mirror or a live video feed, appears to increase the likelihood of this effect manifesting itself. Personnel in the vicinity of SCP-174 report a general feeling of sadness or sympathy directed toward the figure, but cannot explain any reason for these feelings. Prolonged exposure can lead to personnel personifying the figure to greater extents; those with particularly low Psychic Resistance Scale scores will in some cases begin to act as if SCP-174 were a living being (e.g. cradling it as if it were a baby). When informed of their abnormal behaviour, all personnel revert to standard behaviour patterns for at least several minutes.
Subjects who place SCP-174 on their hand report an urge to 'converse' with it. When questioned, they frequently report that the figure is 'lonely' and needs companionship. The subject will also begin speaking for SCP-174 and manipulating its expression. When speaking for the figure, the subject's voice will take on a higher-pitched, childlike tone. Recordings taken with high-sensitivity microphones have determined that at no point does the figure itself actually speak, or make any discernible noise. Regardless of the subject's experience, the act will be almost perfect. The 'conversation' will quickly move toward a discussion of the figure's emotional state, particularly in relation to its past, in most cases leading to the retelling by the figure of a story of how it was abandoned or mistreated. No one story has ever been repeated, and therefore which, if any, is true is unknown. Researchers have theorised that SCP-174 may have low-level telepathic abilities, as each story seems to be based around a theme that will have particular resonance with the current subject.
Past this point, subjects will show great affection for SCP-174, and will attempt to 'protect' it from people who come too close or try to interact with it, in some cases with deadly force. Subjects often refer to SCP-174 as their 'baby', or use similarly strong terms of endearment when referring to it. This effect persists for several hours after SCP-174 and the subject have been separated, and in at least one case the effect had not dissipated 2 weeks after final interaction. Whether the effect would ever have lessened is unknown, as the subject in question was terminated owing to lack of compelling reason for further study. Subjects who are completely isolated from SCP-174 will become paranoid as to the figure's safety, and often undergo a mental collapse similar to that observed in mothers separated from young children. Class-B or stronger amnestics have been shown to be effective in curing both the obsessive effect and the majority of any resultant mental trauma; however, almost all who undergo such treatment complain of feelings of loss and can become depressive.
Addendum 174-1: Experiment Log (transcription of video footage)
Subject: D-14285; Female, 21, no history of violent crime.
Supervising researcher: Dr. A█████████
Location: Containment cell-A4 (researcher and staff observing from behind two-way mirror), Site-19
D-14285 is ordered to place SCP-174 on their hand. Subject does so after initial hesitation. After several seconds, subject begins a mundane conversation with SCP-174. After ~2 minutes, the subject asks SCP-174 'What happened to you?', at which point the figure begins to recount a story of how it was left behind and damaged in a house fire and subsequently discarded by its original owner. <Note: Subject's records indicate that her house was the victim of an arson attack in 19██.> Subject begins to console the figure, and reassure it with standard positive statements. Figure remarks that it is lonely and wants to find friends. Subject begins to punch and pound the door with their free hand. When guards enter the cell sidearms raised, the subject recoils to the corner of the cell, cradling the figure and whispering to it (exact words not picked up by microphone). Guards succeed in removing SCP-174 from the subject, and leave the cell. At this point the subject screams 'they have him, my wonderful baby', and begins punching and kicking the door in a futile escape attempt.
Note: At this point Dr. A█████████ ordered the experiment concluded. D-14285 was terminated after attempts to calm her failed (this experiment was one of the first conducted with SCP-174, before the efficacy of amnestics had become apparent).
Addendum 174-2: Incident 174-A
On ██/██/20██, Dr. A█████████ entered Storage Unit-07 to find SCP-174 sitting on the floor next to its containment unit, looking directly at the main entrance door. The door to SCP-174's unit had been sealed shut, with no access having been logged in the previous week. After being replaced in containment, video surveillance was installed within Storage Unit-07 as a precaution against future translocations, and a GPS tracking unit was attached to SCP-174.

« SCP-173 | SCP-174 | SCP-175 »


Item #: SCP-175
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-175 is to be kept in a metal safe when not undergoing testing. The safe is to be secured in a storage room at Site-███, with other low-maintenance SCPs. The room will be guarded by two security guards at all times in accordance with security protocol [DATA EXPUNGED].
Description: When not “active,” SCP-175 resembles a yellowed piece of parchment, slightly larger than a standard piece of paper. The edges are torn, and it appears weathered and brittle. However, SCP-175 is actually quite supple and is indestructible despite its worn appearance, having resisted all attempts to remove pieces for testing.
The more interesting properties of SCP-175 are revealed when moved in relative proximity to a buried object. The proximity range seems to vary under unknown parameters: SCP-175 has become “active” in distances from as short as 30 meters to as far as several kilometers. However, on average the distance ranges between 100 and 200 meters.
When SCP-175 becomes “active,” its appearance changes to become either a map, a set of directions to the buried object, or some hybrid thereof. Though the approximate size and shape of SCP-175 remain constant, its appearance may change to resemble various other paper and parchment varieties, and the writing or drawing implement and style vary as well, seemingly based on the mindset of the individual or individuals who buried the object. For a partial list of buried objects and their buriers, see Document 175-08.
If the buried object is dug up, or the map is removed from the proximity of the object, SCP-175 reverts back to its normal state.
Document #175-08: Partial list of buriers, buried objects, and appearances of SCP-175. All experiments took place at [DATA EXPUNGED] unless otherwise stated.
Dr. ███████ buried a wooden box. SCP-175 became a piece of graph paper, with a pencil-drawn map of the surrounding area, complete with a legend in the bottom-left. The location of the treasure was clearly marked. Dr. ███████ remarked that the handwriting on SCP-175 looked identical to his own.
████ ██████, a 5-year-old female child of Dr. █████, was instructed to bury a wooden box with a couple of her toys in it. SCP-175 became a crayon-drawn map of the surrounding area on a white piece of paper, clearly modeled on the style of a normal child of that age.
███████ ████, a 10-year-old male child of Agent █████, was instructed to bury a box containing some of his comic books. SCP-175 became a list of instructions on lined yellow paper, based on several landmarks in the area (trees, rocks, etc). The instructions included where to start, and how many paces to take to the next landmark, the direction to turn, and eventually, where to dig. The instructions were complete with misspellings appropriate for the knowledge of a child of that age.
████ ████████, a well-respected professional landscape artist, was instructed to bury an empty wooden box. SCP-175 became a canvas with an accurately painted overhead view of the surrounding area, with an “x” to mark the spot where the box was buried.
█████████ ███████, a professional puzzle-maker and crossword-puzzle maker, was instructed to bury a wooden box. SCP-175 became a piece of graph paper with several inked crossword and various other word puzzles, along with a meta-puzzle. Solving the smaller puzzles was necessary to find the letters to solve the meta-puzzle, which was a list of instructions for where to find the buried object.
Agent █████, who remembered a box with various objects that he had buried in his backyard at the age of 8, traveled with a research team to [DATA EXPUNGED]. SCP-175 became a pencil-drawn map of the surrounding area, along with labels that did not match his current handwriting, but did match his handwriting from papers his parents had kept that he had done at that age. Most remarkably, the map included several trees that had been cut down in the years since the box was buried.
A D-class personnel who had been a professional architect before his conviction as a serial killer was instructed to bury a wooden box. [DATA EXPUNGED]. For full details, those with sufficient clearance should see Addendum 175-13.
During transport of SCP-175, along with numerous other safe SCPs to [DATA EXPUNGED], one of the guards in the truck reported a high-pitched whine coming from the crate containing SCP-175. As per protocol, the truck was stopped and evacuated, and the nearest task force, Mobile Task Force Omega-7 (Pandora's Box) was sent to investigate after being briefed on the contents of the crate. According to the debrief, they found a sheet of metal which was emitting the whine, and the sound increased in pitch and volume as they neared a specific location. Digging in this area uncovered SCP-███, at which point the metal sheet reverted to the “inactive” state of SCP-175.
Addendum 175-13: On ███████, a D-class personnel who had been a professional architect prior to his conviction as a serial killer was instructed to bury a wooden box; the intended purpose of this experiment was to see what SCP-175 would look like when buried by an architect. When Dr. ██████ looked at SCP-175, once the box was buried, he immediately screamed, dropped to his knees, clutching his head with both hands, dropping SCP-175 to the ground, luckily, face-down. Agent ████, who was standing by the side of Dr. ██████ during this experiment, reported a flickering mass of color and a sense of extreme nausea at a glimpse of SCP-175 before it drifted to the ground. He quickly dug up the box, in order to reset SCP-175. Dr. ███████ went into a coma after this incident, and intense psychological screening of the D-class subject revealed a well-hidden schizophrenia and sociopathy. Since this experiment, strict protocol has been put in place to protect the mental health of researchers.

« SCP-174 | SCP-175 | SCP-176 »


SCP-176

Item #: SCP-176
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-176 is contained on-site under the cover of industrial chemical contamination. Any civilians attempting to enter SCP-176 must be detained.
Multiple high-speed cameras are set up within the observation room and linked to continuously running analysis computers. If any deviation is observed in the recorded sequence, all recorded data must be immediately backed up and senior staff notified.
Description: SCP-176 is an abandoned chemical factory situated near [DATA EXPUNGED]. The building consists of a factory floor and an observation room on the second floor, separated from the main room by one-way mirrors. There are three entrances to the building:

A three-bay loading dock, whose doors have been welded shut.
A ground-floor employee entrance.
A second-floor observation room entrance, accessible via a metal staircase on the north end of the building.

When the main building is entered via the loading dock or employee entrance, no anomalies are observed, merely an empty room in severe disuse and disrepair with a small amount of metallic debris consistent with a stripped down, abandoned factory. The inside staircase leading up to the observation room is missing and inaccessible, and so far every attempt to enter the observation room via the inside of the factory through the access door or windows has failed.
When the observation room is entered via the second-floor outside door, a factory observation room consistent in disuse and disrepair to the rest of the building is found. However, when the factory floor is viewed through the observation room windows, the anomalous property of SCP-176 is visible.
The view from the observation room window shows a static, repeating scene that lasts approximately 11.3 seconds before repeating. Visible through the window is a room of the same dimensions and layout as the factory floor, but painted white and sterilized. Set up in the middle of the room is a huge electronic device of indeterminate function covering at least 50 square meters and extending approximately 2 meters in height at its highest point. Five individuals in white clean suits appear to be working on the device.
Approximately 5.9 seconds into the scene, the employee entrance door bursts open and four individuals wearing black tactical armor with no identifying marks or emblems enter the room and open fire on the research personnel. At 11.3 seconds, the device in the center of the room emits an intense flash of light and radiation, and the scene resets. Analysis of thousands of instances of the scene has shown no variation in the sequence.
So far, all attempts at interacting with the scene have failed; any attempts to breach the window or door from within the observation room are met with resistance inconsistent with the suggested strength of the materials comprising their frames. To date, all attempts that have resulted in successful penetration of the door or window have resulted in the damage being instantly reverted along with the sequence during the burst of light. Any tools or limbs extended outside of the observation room are cleanly severed, and have never been found.
Research is ongoing into the nature of the device at the center of SCP-176, as well as the identities of the individuals involved.
Addendum 176-1: Further Analysis of Individuals in SCP-176
Analysis has yielded the following information regarding the individuals visible in the scene:

Unidentified researcher #1: male Caucasian, approximately 40 years of age, with brown hair and green eyes. Stands in the southeast corner of the room, reading from a standing monitor. Hit three times in the chest by automatic fire at approximately 8.1 seconds and appears to be killed instantly.
Unidentified researcher #2: male Asian, approximately 35 years of age, with black hair and brown eyes. Stands to the left of researcher #1, carries a clipboard with indecipherable writing on a note pad. Hit once in right shoulder at 8.0 seconds before dropping to the floor, out of sight behind the device.
Unidentified researcher #3: female Caucasian, approximately 40 years of age, with brown hair and amber eyes. Sits at a desk in the southwest corner of the room, working at a computer station. Is out of the line of sight when the gunfire begins, and takes cover under the desk. Appears to be reaching for a weapon of some sort shortly before the end of the sequence.
Unidentified researcher #4: male Caucasian, approximately 45 years of age, with brown hair and indeterminate eyes. Stands in front of the device to the northeast, with his back to the observation room. Shot twice in the head at 7.2 seconds, killed instantly.
Unidentified researcher #5: male, indeterminate. Stands in the northwest corner, mostly obscured. Presumably shot at approximately 7.8 seconds and drops down, out of sight.
Unidentified assailant #1: male, indeterminate, wielding a suppressed M4A1. Enters first, shoots researcher #4 and researcher #5, then moves towards the device.
Unidentified assailant #2: male, indeterminate, wielding a suppressed MP5N. Enters second, turns left and shoots researcher #1 and researcher #2, then sweeps towards the southeast.
Unidentified assailant #3: male, indeterminate, wielding a suppressed MP5N. Enters third, turns right and moves under the observation room.
Unidentified assailant #4: male, indeterminate, wielding a suppressed TMP. Stays at the door, covering the others.

« SCP-175 | SCP-176 | SCP-177 »