Item#: 748

Level3

Containment Class:
euclid

Secondary Class:
none

Disruption Class:
vlam

Risk Class:
caution

link to memo

SCP-748, interior.

Special Containment Procedures: The non-anomalous structure above SCP-748 has been converted into Site-68. In the event of a civilian encounter, security personnel are to employ non-lethal force in conjunction with the administration of amnestics. A steel, barbed-wire fence must be maintained at a four km radius around SCP-748. Signs warning of toxic contamination are to be attached to the fence at every three meter interval.
Security has been increased in light of recent changes to SCP-748. Researchers are to travel and work in groups of no fewer than 3 and must be accompanied by an armed escort at all times. Security personnel are to be equipped with helmet-mounted live audio/video recording devices and all personnel must be equipped with a GPS tracking unit.
Description: SCP-748 is an abandoned industrial complex capable of mass-production through anomalous technology. Located in Lowell, Massachusetts, SCP-748 was constructed beneath a non-anomalous factory. SCP-748's anomalous machines are rusted, damaged, and primarily disabled. Based on recovered documents, these machines would have required a level of power on par with a fusion reactor but their intended power source has yet to be discovered. The construction of SCP-748 appears to be incomplete. Evidence of this includes walled doorways, dead-end halls, and wires/pipes that connect to nothing. Posters throughout the complex display motivational/propagandistic slogans, including "A HARD WORKER IS A HAPPY WORKER" and "ACTIVE MINDS LEAD TO IDLE HANDS" (among others).
The first subterranean floor is accessible via a collapsed portion of SCP-748's surface interior. Metal signs designate the location as “Boarding 03/1200 – Ι: 21”. The floor is characterized by eight hallways (cell blocks 1-8), each converging at a circular room equipped with a large mechanical lift. Cells are designed for the containment of workers. The floor is estimated to have been designed for the capability of housing 4,000 to 6,000 individuals in crowded, unsanitary conditions.
The second subterranean floor is a rectangular chamber. Despite its distance from the surface it appears to be designed for the packaging and shipping of products; local signs designate the floor “Shipping 03/1200 – Φ: 5190”. The floor contains twenty-one mechanical lifts including the central elevator - the lifts most likely used for the transportation of items from the assembly floor.
Contained within are three machines of identical design attached to the southern, eastern, and northern walls and are respectively labeled Νότος,1 Εὖρος,2 and Βορέας.3 Although disabled, recovered documents suggest that their purpose was related to the transportation of objects. The western wall appears to have once housed such a machine but it seems to have been destroyed. These machines have since been classified as SCP-748-1.
Heavily rusted crates were discovered haphazardly scattered throughout the area. The crates are non-anomalous and their anomalous cargo has been transferred to Site ██ for study. Anomalous objects recovered from these crates include:

500 rocking horses, biologically alive. Scream when observed. Highly radioactive.
500 fur coats crafted from the pelts of various unknown species. Perpetually on fire.
2,000 rifles that superficially resemble the M1903 Springfield. No observable anomalies but Kant counters have registered them at >50 Hm, suggesting high levels of potential unreality.
800 bowler hats that cannot be removed once worn. Causes the wearer to expel wasps from every orifice.
200,000 cigarettes. Direct inhalation transforms the consumer into a basking shark. Affected individuals will explode after complete transformation (a process requiring approximately 30 minutes).
10 metric tonnes of rotten meat. Genetic analysis revealed a hybrid species of human, pig, and squid. Highly radioactive.

The third subterranean floor is a semi-circular chamber accessible via the central elevator. Signs designate this floor “Production 03/1200 - Ω : 91”. The location is composed of conveyor belts, pneumatic tubes, electron tubes, and pipes – all of which connect to a large machine (since classified as SCP-748-2) located in the southern section of the chamber. Based on recovered documents, SCP-748-2's intended purpose was roughly analogous to a molecular assembler.4 However, its design and mechanics fail to correlate with such a hypothetical constructor or with established laws of nature, rendering the process entirely anomalous.
It appears that SCP-748-2 suffered significant damage at some point in the past, an event likely related to SCP-748's neutralization. This is estimated to have occurred in the early 1950s despite records stating that the surface factory was shut down and abandoned in 1915.

+ History and Discovery

- ACCESS GRANTED

The factory that would eventually house SCP-748 was built in 1882 by Randolph T. Metzger and initially functioned as a textile mill. It is speculated that SCP-748 itself was clandestinely built between the years 1896 and 1908.
Abandoned long before containment, the location was considered a popular, albeit dangerous destination for exploration and the source of several urban legends (none of which are believed to be relevant to its anomaly). On 09/04/1992, the Foundation began its investigation after years of disappearances being attributed to the location. SCP-748 would be under Foundation containment by October of that year.
Randolph T. Metzger: A Biography

Randolph T. Metzger, 1898.

Randolph T. Metzger (1840-1915) was an affluent textile magnate. Born to German immigrants, he was the object of significant praise - his life frequently cited as a "rags-to-riches" story. Owning several mills, his most profitable was located in the city of Lowell, Massachusetts, where he employed an estimated 70% of the local population. Metzger was also celebrated for his charitable contributions, including the management of "Metzger's House for Wayward Youths" and the "Organization for the Betterment of Man".
Despite his charitable works, he remained a contemptuous figure in the eyes of organized labor. Conditions within the factory were reportedly dismal and devoid of safety regulations. His conflict with the labor movement would culminate in the bombing of the Lowell factory in 1895, resulting in 23 fatalities. The incident was blamed on anarchist provocateurs and six men were arrested and executed for their involvement despite a lack of evidence. The actual cause of the incident remains unknown, police refusing to investigate the matter further; corruption is suspected.
Metzger began to restructure his business enterprise in early 1896, resulting in the creation of what would later be classified as SCP-748. Approximate to this time, based on Metzger's private journal, aligned himself with an entity known as "The Investor".5
Metzger committed suicide on November 13, 1915, his body discovered by constables after a mail carrier reported hearing gunshots in the vicinity of his manor. Autopsy revealed the cause of death to be a self-inflected gunshot wound to the head. No brain matter was recovered, presumed by the coroner as having been eaten by a pet hound. His family and household servants were discovered missing and their fates remain unknown.

+ Related Documents

- ACCESS GRANTED

Diary Entry: Randolph T. Metzger, 1896

The deal's been made. I regret nothing. Necessary sacrifices. All of them.
Simply good business.
The Investor has promised much.
And soon, I'll be richer than Croesus.

Unsent Letter: Brianna O'Donnel, 1897

Mum,
This money should get you through the next month. Send my love to sis. Tell her I got her letter.
Good news! Mr. Metzger's a changed man! The new factory is a marvel to behold and the dormitories are so spacious! He said it isn't even finished yet. He even plans to increase our wages. Did the protests really get through to him? I don't know but he seems sincere, always a smile on his face. The girls are just as happy. Says the factory is going to be a model for the world! We don't feel just like workers anymore. Like, we're part of something bigger now? It ain't equal to Mr. Metzger but it's certainly an improvement. Haven't seen his family in awhile. His wife and boys used to visit a lot.
Sincerely,
Brianna

Diary Entry: Lucja Czajkowski, 1900
Translated from Polish:

Where does everyone go? So many floors. How many are here now? So hard to keep track. Was working with Sasha at 202. We were speaking and then she was gone. Overseer says not to worry. I ask him again and he beats me. I don't know why. He has no face.
I search for her today but can't find 202. Numbers keep moving.
It hurts behind my eyes. Blood comes from my nose and ears. Overseer say it's normal. I cannot let them see me cry. Or they will use the punishment rod.
No more. I am dying inside.

Diary Entry: Randolph T. Metzger, 1902

The M-Machine has come online well ahead of schedule. Janus Doors are locked to their intended destinations. An endless supply of raw materials.
I desire outfits of finest silk? The machine creates it. I wish for toys? And toys it shall produce. The M-Machine can conjure forth every possible consumer good. I transmute flesh into bread and blood into wine!
The factory bends to my will. The workers live at my mercy alone. I am God here.

Diary Entry: Fiona Murphy, 1906

This place is a prison. We cannot leave. Those outside this dungeon must not know. Always more workers. Hundreds. Thousands. The factory expands. The factors shifts. I heard the overseers. They say it is one of many. Connected by the Janus Doors. What do they mean? The walls move. Too many floors. Too many rooms. Can't keep track. Nothing seems real. My stomach churns and I vomit daily. They inject our meals. Just enough, just enough to keep us alive and useful. The noise is deafening - the sound of machines and screams.
And the toil never ends. People work themselves to death. And then are fed to that infernal machine. We make everything. Food. Toys. Clothes.
And weapons. Unlike any I could imagine. Terrible, terrible weapons.
We are allowed four hours for sleep but I often wake to the sound of Harvestmen. The scraping of metal on metal. In the morning, we sometimes find someone missing. We dare not question it. Need to keep our head down, can't look them in the eyes.
They aren't human. Not anymore.

Diary Entry: Randolph T. Metzger, 1912

The Investor dreams of war. A most profitable venture. This explains the current demands. I don't know where they are being sent. The Investor prefers to keep me in the dark. I've become a cog in his machine and have grown dreadfully bored. This factory is bound to me! It grows too efficient, too perfect; I have no place in its future.
Have I become obsolete?

Suicide Note: Randolph T. Metzger, 1915

THIS WASNT [sic] WHAT I WAS PROMISED

Addendum: On 05/14/1996, a blockage of bone and scrap metal was removed from several large pipes used throughout the complex. This removal caused the pipes to flood with water, resulting in the loss of eleven personnel. Following this incident, electrical lights were enabled throughout the complex (flickering and dim, suggestive of low power) and an aperture opened where the central elevator shaft had previously terminated, connecting to an additional floor.
The fourth subterranean floor is a spherical chamber accessible via the central elevator shaft. Metal signs designate the floor as “Management 03/1200 - Δ : 586”. Contained within this floor are 200 pillar-shaped machines attached to one another via copper wires, bronze pipes, and vacuum tubes. Each device houses a glass cylinder containing an unidentified green liquid and one preserved human brain. These brains are biologically alive but have suffered damage consistent with lobotomy. These devices are classified as SCP-748-3 and connect to a large and intricate apparatus at the northeastern section of the floor which has since been classified as SCP-748-4.
SCP-748-4 is a 275 metric ton bio-mechanical machine related to the control and management of SCP-748. SCP-748-4's mechanical component is comparable to an analog computer (albeit one of incredible complexity) while its organic component is a living human brain that claims to be Randolph T. Metzger. SCP-748-4's voice is often distorted and marred by static - it remains unknown how it is able to speak and hear.

+ SCP-748-4: Interviews

- ACCESS GRANTED

SCP-748-4's brain vat.

Interview 01
Interviewed: SCP-748-4/"Randolph T. Metzger"
Interviewer: Dr. Emerson
Foreword: First official interview with SCP-748-4.
<Begin Log>
Dr. Emerson: Please state your name.
SCP-748-4: I am Randolph Thaddeus Metzger. Has the Investor sent you? Does he finally wish to parlay after all these years?
Dr. Emerson: No. I wasn't sent by the "Investor". Tell me - how did you come to be in your current state?
SCP-748-4: Do you think yourself my equal? Humble your tone and lower your head. I demand answers. Satisfy my desire and perhaps I'll indulge your curiosity.
Dr. Emerson: Very well, Mr. Metzger. Ask your questions.
SCP-748-4: If you are not one of his sycophants then who are you?
Dr. Emerson: I am a researcher. Nothing more. Does that satis-
SCP-748-4: [interrupts, voice distorted; a metallic and grating tone] Liar. LIAR! I've been watching you with all my eyes. A researcher, yes, but don't play me for a fool.
Dr. Emerson: I'm afraid that information is confidential.
SCP-748-4: Then you are a parasite and shall receive nothing.
<End Log>
Closing Statement: A request was made to Overwatch for a ToI6 Agreement. Request approved.
Dr. Paula Emerson

Interview 02
Interviewed: SCP-748-4/"Randolph T. Metzger"
Interviewer: Dr. Emerson
Foreword: Second official interview with SCP-748-4.
<Begin Log>
Dr. Emerson: We agree to your terms. We are an organization that deals with anomalies, such as yourself.
SCP-748-4: I'm an anomaly now? Oh, it's simply a trade secret…
Dr. Emerson: Being a brain in a jar?
SCP-748-4: Now now, there's no need to be snide.
Dr. Emerson: Will you answer our questions then?
SCP-748-4: Speak your words. I'll decide whether to answer or not.
Dr. Emerson: How did you come to be in your present state?
SCP-748-4: I was utterly aghast, you know. At least at first. No doubt my enemies would have proclaimed 'poetic justice' or some rot.
The Investor was not punishing me. No, no… Efficiency was increased. That was all that mattered.
Dr. Emerson: Who was the Investor?
SCP-748-4: A very wealthy man. Wealthier than I - and I was the sixth wealthiest magnate in the world! The five more affluent than I? They too were willing to serve the invisible hand of the market. I know not his name or how he procured his fortune. Perhaps every loose coin falls his way…
There is a shadow market. There has always been a shadow market. Where Rockefeller reigned by daylight, the Investor ruled in darkness. And even Rockefeller bowed his head.
The filth of this world. The dregs, the socialists, the PARASITES [shrieking distortion followed by static]… They called us 'robber barons'; if we were barons, then the Investor was emperor.
And none but us even knew he existed. In the end, he dared to put a stop to the project. Saw the writing on the wall, knew he was losing control…
Now go. I grow weary of conversation. Return later if you must.
<End Log>
Closing Statement: A fortuitous conversation, although its bombastic speech renders it difficult to discern how much was mere hyperbole.
Dr. Paula Emerson

Interview 03
Interviewed: SCP-748-4/"Randolph T. Metzger"
Interviewer: Dr. Emerson
Foreword: Third official interview with SCP-748-4.
<Begin Log>
Dr. Emerson: Would you be willing to answer more questions?
SCP-748-4: Ask and you may receive.
Dr. Emerson: What can you tell me about this complex? What is its purpose?
SCP-748-4: You call yourself a researcher? How can you not see its purpose? If you were my employee I would have you stripped of your position and thrown into the Crucible7 as scrap material!
Dr. Emerson: Allow me to correct myself. We know it is for manufacturing but what is its larger purpose? How does it work?
SCP-748-4: To take industry to its logical conclusion! And how it works? HA! [shrieking metallic noise] A trade secret, my friend. We prefer to keep the upper hand.
Dr. Emerson: "We"? Are you referring to those other brains?
SCP-748-4: Those are merely additional places to store my memory. Thoughtless tools. Nothing more. Do you think I am the only one? Many served the Investor. You don't even know the true scale of this place, do you?
Dr. Emerson: Please explain.
SCP-748-4: No. I find this all terribly dull. Leave me be.
<End Log>
Closing Statement: It appears that SCP-748 is only one of many such factories. I find it peculiar that SCP-748-4 has a very limited interest in conversation. How else is it occupying itself? Perhaps I am overthinking this.
Dr. Paula Emerson

Addendum: Six personnel have inexplicably vanished with the first incident occurring in 08/14/1996. Each individual was out of sight at the time of their disappearance and in some cases, were nearby but merely obstructed when turning a corner or moving behind a machine. The cause of these disappearances remains unknown. Security procedures have since been updated to address this concern.
When asked about the disappearances, SCP-748-4 responded by stating: "Accidents happen. Your safety is not my concern."

+ INFORMATION RESTRICTED TO LEVEL 4 PERSONNEL OR ABOVE

- ACCESS GRANTED

WARNING:
Due to the ongoing nature of SCP-748's containment breach this document is incomplete and subject to change.
O5-12
12/31/1999

Item#: 748

Level4

Containment Class:
keter

Secondary Class:
uncontained

Disruption Class:
ekhi

Risk Class:
danger

link to memo

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-748 and its related anomalies are currently uncontained. Special containment procedures are to focus on the apprehension of SCP-748 products and the mitigation of Mammon events.
Description: SCP-748 is a factory complex capable of anomalous manufacturing. SCP-748 is not believed to be the only one of its kind and may function in tandem with potentially hundreds of such instances. GPS readings recovered from Site-68 revealed scattered pings across all continents but Antarctica. This suggests that SCP-748 may now be merged with these related instances and functioning as a single entity via dimensional anomalies.
It is currently unknown when SCP-748 breached containment but it is hypothesized that Site-68's security became jeopardized shortly after the discovery of SCP-748-4. The Foundation would not become aware of the breach until the first recorded Omega-Mammon event (the destruction of Site-68 being a likely Alpha-Mammon event).
An Alpha-Mammon event involves the harvest of materials and their transmutation into salable products. Resources are gathered by instances of SCP-748-5 by any available means and make no distinction between living and non-living matter.
SCP-748-5 entities appear roughly human but have undergone extensive mechanical and surgical augmentation. Their numbers are unknown but they are believed to be composed from former workers of SCP-748 and Site-68 personnel. SCP-748-5 lack skin and appear to have undergone a process similar to plastination8 but employing a stronger, more flexible material. Attached to the backs of SCP-748-5 are rusted, iron cages; the tops of which are open and apparently designed for the collection of materials. Their left hands have been replaced with tools, most commonly sickles or circular saws. The face has been completely excised, the hollow space housing a flaring horn (similar to those used in early phonographs).
SCP-748-5 are able to render themselves intangible (during which they are unable to interact with the physical world) and are capable of manifesting/demanifesting at any location. This in turn makes it practically impossible to contain a living specimen. Autopsies of deceased subjects (SCP-748-5 can be terminated through destruction of the brain stem) suggest that the mechanical components of SCP-748-5 self-destruct upon the death/disablement of their host, leaving the technology beyond repair and of little to no research value.
An Omega-Mammon event involves the manifestation of SCP-748 products at retail locations. These objects, as well as the packaging used, have a cognitive influence on employees and owners of affected stores. Retailers are unable to perceive SCP-748 products as unusual or out of place. Money used to purchase these products will vanish the moment they are placed within a register. Credit or debit cards used for the purchase will have the appropriate amount of money deducted but without any evidence of where the money was transferred.
The first Omega-Mammon event involved the sudden influx of anomalous objects at retailers within 40 km of SCP-748. Some anomalies appear intended while others appear to be a byproduct of the molecular and existential instability associated with most of SCP-748's creations. Purchased items resulted in 56 casualties (including 33 fatalities) and requiring an extensive (and ongoing) coverup operation.
Mammon events have since been reported globally.
Site-68 was discovered destroyed and heavily salvaged. Surviving personnel were hostile to recovery operatives, resulting in the deaths of 9 recovery agents and all 12 Site-68 personnel; approximately 50 other Site-68 personnel vanished before they could be neutralized.
Autopsies revealed significant modifications to Site-68 staff, including chemical treatment, lobotomy, and mechanical augmentation. Site-68 personnel have since been classified as SCP-748-5. It is suspected they were converted at least 2-6 years before discovery, during which Site-68 requested and received advanced equipment that has yet to be recovered. It is presently theorized that this equipment was used to repair SCP-748.
SCP-748 is currently in a metamorphic state. These shifts lack any recognizable pattern and have resulted in the fatalities of 32 recovery operatives – primarily from being transfigured and incorporated into SCP-748 or through evisceration by the rapid manifestation of pipes and wires. Surveillance has been rendered impossible with CCTV equipment having been disabled and remote drones quickly destroyed by shift events.
Addendum: Audio data was recovered from what is left of Site-68. Although part of a CCTV recorded video, the video itself was too distorted to be of any use but audio proved salvageable and appears to reveal seemingly one-sided conversations by SCP-748-4. It is theorized that SCP-748-4 is communicating with instances similar to himself from throughout the world. It is suspected that Foundation personnel had already been converted to SCP-748-5 at the time of these recordings. SCP-748-4 has been recovered stating the following over a period of several months:

"Wake up Liverpool. It is time to get back to work."

"A capital idea. We'll corner the market."

"Ah. Tokyo. You survived. A pity we slept through the war. It would have been a most profitable venture."

"Be proud, my friends, for the project moves swiftly."

"The Infinity Engine has been reactivated. The Crucible demands fresh material."

"We have long awaited for this! The world will be that of producer and consumer and those who refuse will be industrialized. We are to fulfill our destiny and become one with the free market…
Gentlemen, I do declare: The Factory is back in business!"

Footnotes
1. Greek god of the south wind.
2. Greek god of the east wind.
3. Greek god of the north wind.
4. A theoretical device capable of guiding chemical reactions by positioning reactive molecules with atomic precision. Also known as a universal constructor.
5. Since classified as PoI-296. Currently unidentified, they were/are capable of supplying anomalous technology.
6. "Trade of Information". A limited and controlled release of information in order to gather presently unknown data.
7. Meaning unknown but presumably a component of SCP-748.
8. A technique used in anatomy to preserve bodies or body parts, first developed by Gunther von Hagens in 1977. Water and fat are replaced with plastics, preserving anatomical properties and preventing decay.

« SCP-747 | SCP-748 | SCP-749 »


Item #: SCP-749
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-749 is to be contained in a sealed Live Containment Vault with a minimum of three armed guards at all times. All guards posted are to be equipped with chemical dispersal units loaded with appropriate insecticides at all times.
The walls of the vault are to be sloped in order to inhibit SCP-749's attempts to crawl up them; electrified mesh capable of delivering a 5000 volt shock is to be installed over all viewing windows.
To feed SCP-749, dedicated sprinklers are to be turned on and a mammal weighing no less than 70 kilograms is to be introduced into the habitat. The sprinklers are to remain on for at least an hour. Feeding is to take place every five days, and no additional personnel are permitted within the room while feeding takes place.
Description: SCP-749 is an apex predator superficially resembling members of the subphylum Myriapoda, approximately 3 m long with two to three hundred pairs of legs. Each individual SCP-749 possesses powerful forcipules which secrete a powerful acidic compound with a measured pH of 0.3.
SCP-749 demonstrates a predilection for hunting during rainstorms, and appears to be familiar with urban settings. Its preferred hunting methods consist of climbing up the walls of domiciles, using its forcipules to gain entry (usually by boring a hole through a wall or window), then feeding upon sleeping individuals within. SCP-749 shows a marked intelligence in evaluating potential prey: in all reported SCP-749 attacks, the creature fed upon the smallest unaccompanied individual, and its feeding habits in containment continue to support this conclusion of intelligence.
SCP-749 appears to avoid detection prior to these attacks due to a combination of both visual and aural camouflage: When actively hunting prey, SCP-749 will alter its hue to match even complicated surfaces, such as stonework, rendering it visually almost undetectable until it strikes. The unique pattern of walking and form of legs possessed by the creature causes it to emulate and therefore blend in with the sound of raindrops impacting hard surfaces. However, due to the fidelity with which SCP-749 replicates this sound, varying the sound based on the surface, SCP-749 either is intelligent enough to vary its walking patterns based on surface, or exudes a non-vibration based effect that causes it to be heard as raindrops by potential prey.

« SCP-748 | SCP-749 | SCP-750 »


Close up view of a sample of SCP-750 outside its case.

Item #: SCP-750
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-750 presents no threat unless applied directly to a human eye, and so shall be kept in Dr. Langley's office until all relevant tests and studies are completed. All instances of SCP-750 are to be removed from the previous user after testing has been completed, whereafter they are to be cleaned and returned to their included case.
Description: SCP-750 is a group of twenty-four (24) contact lenses, designed presumably to correct myopic or hypermetropic vision. When a pair of SCP-750 is applied, they attach to the cornea and become unable to be removed physically by the wearer, though others can still remove them. Users of SCP-750 report an immediate blurring of their vision after application, followed by a period of extreme dizziness. When the user recovers from this daze, they describe a change in perception; this change seems to worsen with time, and prolonged exposure to the object will cause a wearer to permanently suffer the noted effects of SCP-750 even when the item has been removed from the cornea, in addition to affecting the wearer's sense of touch, smell, hearing, and taste. The only method of treatment at this point is to sever the optic nerve of the affected eye(s).

Dr. ███████, as depicted by a subject exposed to SCP-750 for several hours.

Personnel exposed to SCP-750 have reported the following alterations to their vision:

Man-made walls, ceilings, and floors being covered in a substance described similarly to biofilm
The sky being a dark red color, with clouds always appearing to be black
Food items instead resembling a collection of dismembered human limbs, organs, and viscera
Visions of small insects emerging from pores on their skin
Viewed written language becoming an unidentified language
Works of art changing - paintings depict violent scenes from human history, and statues become depictions of unworldly creatures, not identifiable with any known species

In addition, those affected will react with violent revulsion to other human beings, as well as ignoring any attempt to engage in interpersonal conversation or communication. Prolonged exposure to SCP-750 can and has resulted in schizophrenia, PTSD, dissociative identity disorder, and antisocial personality disorder.
Addendum: SCP-750 was discovered by Dr. ███████, after he ordered a pair of 'X-ray specs' from a back page ad in Issue #█ of █████ █████ Magazine, and instead received a case containing SCP-750. The case also contained a page of 'instructions', which are transcribed below.

Hey true believers! Thank you for ordering your new AMAZING see through specs, fresh from your friends here at THE FACTORY! Included within is your purchase, a life-time guarantee*, and a phone number to contact us should your friends get jealous and want the same power you've got now! Wondering exactly how your new eyes work? Simple! Just take one of the included lenses and get 'em reeeeaaaaal good and close to your old peepers. Your new purchase will take over from there! Have fun!!!
*WOW!: Amaze your friends with new ability to see through their lies!
*ZIPPIE!: Show off at school! No teacher can hide anything from you anymore!
*AMAZING!: Discover secrets! Find hidden treasure! Know the unknowable! Anything is possible for you now!
*Refunds not guaranteed. WARNING: Gazing directly at the truth may cause you to reconsider your miserable existence. Use with caution.

Note: The phone number and guarantee mentioned above were not included in Dr. ███████'s ordered case.

« SCP-749 | SCP-750 | SCP-751 »


Item #: SCP-751
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-751 is to be kept in a hermetically sealed container with a volume of one (1) cubic meter. The container must be maintained at high humidity and nutrients detailed in Document 751-A are to be injected into the container on a daily basis.
If a containment breach occurs, all on-site personnel are to be awakened and the sprinkler system filled with a high concentration saline solution and activated. Once SCP-751's body is located, it is to be disposed of according to standard Euclid disposal procedure.
Description: SCP-751 is an amorphous parasite that feeds off of the organs of humans and other mammals. It weighs approximately two (2) kilograms before infesting a host, and can weigh as little as twenty-five percent (25%) of this after reproduction. The majority of SCP-751's mass consists of an unknown substance with a gelatin-like consistency, with red veins running through it. Analysis has revealed that the veins contain a mix of blood from its progenitor's hosts along with varying anesthetics and immunosuppressive drugs. A full list of these chemicals is available in Document 751-C.
SCP-751 lives in damp environments such as freshwater bodies of water, swamps, rainforests, and sewers. It will leave these environments when in search of a host, traveling for a maximum of twelve (12) hours before succumbing to dehydration. SCP-751 has been observed to move through sewer pipes, water lines, and across most terrains, with the notable exceptions of sand and bodies of saltwater. It is theorized that SCP-751 hunts potential hosts by detecting carbon dioxide (CO2) and octenol, although this is unconfirmed as of ██/██/████.
SCP-751 begins its feeding process by settling on top of a sleeping host's stomach region and begins to enter through the skin by osmosis. Anesthetics in SCP-751's veins mix with the host's blood at this time, minimizing the chance of the host awakening during the process. Once within the host's body, SCP-751 comes to rest inside the stomach, quickly shaping itself to line the gastric walls. Over the course of the next two (2) or three (3) hours, SCP-751 adapts its own composition to closely match that of the host's stomach, maintaining digestive processes. When the host awakens, there is little or no evidence of any incident and the host will continue under its normal routine.
Over the next three (3) to four (4) days, SCP-751 will digest the host's stomach, using it to build up its own mass for further expansion. It will then slowly expand to engulf and digest other organs in the host's body, generally starting with the intestines and moving to the liver, kidneys, and lungs. SCP-751 will adapt itself to mimic each of these organs in turn, maintaining all of the host's bodily functions and releasing immunosuppressant chemicals to prevent rejection by the host. The entire process takes approximately one (1) month in a human host, and longer in larger hosts.
After its feeding period, SCP-751 reverts back to its original composition in a matter of minutes. This process lowers SCP-751's density considerably, causing it to swell to a size that the host's body cannot contain. The host's skin will stretch and then burst, releasing SCP-751. At this point SCP-751 will reproduce, dividing into ten (10) to twenty (20) smaller entities, which then move to the nearest damp area to grow in preparation of hunting for their own hosts.
Addendum:
Request to "experiment with modifying SCP-751 for use in organ transplants" approved by Dr. ████████.

« SCP-750 | SCP-751 | SCP-752 »


Still from footage captured by unmanned expedition.

Item #: SCP-752
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: Areas 752-1 through -4 have been constructed around the four known entrances to SCP-752. No personnel are permitted to enter SCP-752, although unmanned infiltration missions using technology taken from inside SCP-752 are permitted. In the event of an uncontrollable containment breach, Protocol Shangdu-47 must be implemented. Otherwise, termination is not advised as it could lead to the release of SCP-752-1 in the event of failure.
Captured instances of SCP-752-1 must be transported to Site-17 for questioning and examination and under no circumstance allowed to return to SCP-752. Instances of SCP-752-1 found approaching any of the 752 sites are to be terminated on sight.
Description: SCP-752 is an underground city in the northern █████████ Mountains, spanning ███ km2, population approximately 10,000. An array of electric lighting devices powered by a geothermal generator create day and night matching the rhythm of the outside world. A shield built of an unknown metal surrounds the entire city and blocks all known signals and radiation, including sonar. Study of this metal is restricted to on-site efforts to minimize the chances of containment breach.

A known entrance to SCP-752

SCP-752-1 are the inhabitants of SCP-752. Physically, SCP-752-1 appear human. However, the social behaviour exhibited by SCP-752-1 in large groups bears no resemblance to that of humans or any other social mammal (although parallels exist in ants and other social insects). Individuals of SCP-752-1 possess no self-interest whatsoever and are motivated solely by desire to advance the 'greater good' of SCP-752. SCP-752-1 currently possess technology significantly more advanced than exists outside of SCP-752; however, their rate of progress has begun to stagnate.
Documents recovered at the sites indicate that SCP-752 was constructed ███ years ago by a group of unidentified scientists and philosophers, operating under the alias ‘Eudaimon.' SCP-752-1 was engineered by Eudaimon as an attempt to create an ‘ideal society.'
Document 752-3 (recovered from Site-752-1)

Day 1
Eudaimon-Alpha-1
Population of Eudaimonia: 100
What a glorious new day. This is the day Homo eudaimonia will set their calendar by. After the last battery of mass testing, we've introduced fifty males and fifty females to the final testing area. Nothing but them, the artificial sun, the temple, and the few animal and plant species we've introduced for domestication.
Nothing left for Eudaimon now but to observe.

Document 752-7 (recovered from Site-752-3)

Year 8, Day 24
Eudaimon-Gamma-1
Population of Eudaimonia: 124
Population growth has been above-normal, as expected from our Eudaimoniacs. Instead of competing, they cooperate with one another in everything. All of the animal species provided have been successfully domesticated for food and labour. No signs of agricultural activity yet. Technological progress is proceeding as expected based on the data we left for them in the temple.

Document 752-22 (recovered from Site-752-4)

Year 15, Day 212
Eudaimon-Delta-4
Population of Eudaimonia: 170
Growth has continued, showing marked deviance from normal human social behaviour. Whereas Homo sapiens were never intended to live in groups of more than a few hundred, H. eudaimonia will function perfectly in groups of thousands or millions. Agriculture going at full tilt now, making use of the available aquifers for irrigation.
Deviant behaviours have begun to emerge. The taboo against cannibalism seems to have vanished and dead Eudaimoniacs are being consumed for sustenance. Additionally, disabled or feeble individuals are suiciding or being killed at a worrying rate. Beta-1 wants to interfere, try to lay down moral guidelines, but Alpha-1 insists that finding these things repulsive is one of the problems with our society and any interaction could ‘taint‘ the Eudaimoniacs.
Technological development is proceeding significantly faster than estimated rates. Construction has begun on several structures of unknown purpose, an interesting development considering that no actual buildings previously existed in Eudaimonia.

Document 752-70 (recovered from Site-752-2)

Year 24, Day 4
Eudaimon-Beta-4
Population of Eudaimonia: ~300
Population growth has suddenly exploded, nearly doubling in less than a decade. Presumably this increase is related to the structures.
Some other extremely worrying behaviours have begun to emerge. The Eudaimoniacs have developed a meritocracy caste system, and are forcing the strongest and least intelligent to build for them. No, not forcing — the workers do it voluntarily, but they're working themselves to death. In fact, everybody in this society is being worked to death. Estimated life expectancy is about forty-five, and we proved in the initial testing that Eudaimoniacs can live to 150 easily. No signs of cultural development so far, except that they've built the vague hints of a divine ‘creator' called the Eudaimon into a brutally strict moral system. On the bright side, they've taken to heart the idea that one day the Eudaimon will come back for them and lead them to another world, as we'd intended.
We've been calling these odd behaviors ‘deviant,' but they're not. This society has no deviance. All innovation is judged based on its merits and implemented or discarded. I'm starting to have serious doubts about the value of this whole thing. Alpha-1 and his team of geneticists seem oddly unsurprised by these developments; I bet they knew this would happen.

Document 752-142 (recovered from Site-752-1)

Year 40, Day 325
Eudaimon-Alpha-1
Population of Eudaimonia: ~1000
Population continues to climb. Technological prowess continues to increase exponentially. At this rate they will reach our level well before the release date.
Beta, Gamma, and Delta have no vision — they grow increasingly disgusted by my wonderful creations. I would never have taken them on the project, but I needed their expertise to construct the development chamber. I have taken measures to ensure they never discover the contents of Eudaimonia's nurseries; hopefully this will be sufficient to forestall a mutiny.

Document 752-314

Year 70, Day 87
Eudaimon Delta-1
Population of Eudaimonia: ~3000
Population growth shows no signs of slowing. High-rise type shelters are now being constructed in addition to the unknown buildings to allow for further growth. Technological advancement continues to exceed all expectations. We can only hope that it will stagnate once they get through what we left in the temple. Undesirable behaviours have worsened. Gamma attempted to intervene and was slaughtered. The rest of us attempted a coup against Alpha. Alpha-3 pretended to sympathize and managed to fatally poison most of Beta.
Nevertheless, the coup was a success. We still don't know what's in those buildings, but considering what happened to Gamma we're not touching it. Alpha-1, -2, and -5 escaped; the others are dead or captured. We've disabled the release mechanism and sealed off the place as much as we dare. The Eudaimoniacs still believe that there's no world beyond that shield Gamma built. Now, hopefully, they'll never learn otherwise.

Unmanned Exploration Unit 752-a was sent into SCP-752 on ██/██/20██. Footage recovered from within the 'nursery' structures indicates an extensive and apparently voluntary [DATA EXPUNGED] before conception. UEU-752-a went offline ██ hours into the expedition, and within two (2) months, technology evidently derived from it was seeing extensive use in SCP-752. Further expeditions must use as little advanced technology as possible.
As direct competition between Homo sapiens and SCP-752-1 is projected to lead to an SK-class dominance shift, SCP-752-1 must be kept ignorant of the world outside their cavern at all costs.

« SCP-751 | SCP-752 | SCP-753 »


Image of SCP-753 taken from Marshall, Carter and Dark Ltd. records.

Item #: SCP-753
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-753 is currently contained at Sector-28, located on █████████ ██████ SCP-753 is to be contained in a 6m x 6m holding cell, monitored by surveillance cameras at all times. SCP-753 is to be provided with five (5) litres of each primary color of paint each day, along with twenty-four (24) standard painting canvases. All paintings created by SCP-753 are to be recorded by research staff.
In the event that SCP-753 attempts to destroy itself, security personnel are to restrain SCP-753 and await further orders from Research Staff present.
Description: SCP-753 is a highly advanced automaton approximately ten (10) centimeters across, six (6) centimeters wide and eight (8) centimeters tall. SCP-753 possesses two (2) pincer-like limbs protruding from its main circular body, which it uses to slowly move itself across the ground. This is likely due to SCP-753's locomotive functions having been damaged at an unknown point in its history.
At the center of SCP-753's body is a red sensory organ similar in structure to that of the human eye. SCP-753's eye appears to be organic, but it is likely artificially produced. This eye is also damaged, leaving SCP-753 partially blind. A 'Marshall, Carter and Dark Ltd.' logo has been engraved on SCP-753's back.
Interior analysis of SCP-753 shows that it moves using a rudimentary nervous system, coordinated by an extremely small spherical 'brain'. Above SCP-753's body is a small 'receiver', the purpose of which is currently unknown. SCP-753 appears ignorant of its surroundings, and does not recognize the presence of personnel.
SCP-753's primary purpose appears to be the creation of paintings. Paintings produced by SCP-753 are highly realistic and often do not correspond to real locations. Recently, paintings created by SCP-753 have mostly involved, in some way, SCP-753's death. SCP-753 was initially returned to Marshall, Carter and Dark Ltd by one of their clients, who complained that it was 'broken'. ██████ ██████, a Foundation mole within the organisation, was able to retrieve SCP-753 before incineration.
SCP-753 usually produces one (1) painting per hour. When SCP-753 is not provided with adequate paint or painting canvas, it appears to enter a dormant state, shutting down for a minimum time length of one (1) week. As this heavily impedes research, SCP-753 is to be kept stocked with paint and canvases at all times. SCP-753 does not appear to be concerned about completed paintings, and generally ignores them after they are finished.

Painting Log

 ...

Painting Log:

Time
Painting produced

01:00 AM
Image of an ocean. Water is observed as being red in color. Unidentified aquatic creature bearing resemblance to a platypus is jumping out of the water. Closer inspection reveals that SCP-753 is being crushed in its jaw.

02:24 AM
Image of a lit furnace. Unidentified red humanoid is climbing out of the furnace. SCP-753 is visible inside the furnace.

03:14 AM
Image of a human eye against a starry background. SCP-753 is drifting towards the eye, which is observing it.

04:21 AM
Image of a city. City appears to be constructed from web and populated by giant spiders. SCP-753 is visible trapped in a web, with a spider moving towards it.

05:11 AM
Image of a nuclear explosion. Silhouette resembling SCP-753 is visible in the explosion.

06:02 AM
Image of SCP-753's containment area. SCP-753 appears to have shut down. Research Assistant ██████ is inspecting SCP-753. Closer analysis shows that Research Assistant ██████ lacks eyes.

06:59 AM
Image of Sector-28 disposal facility. Maintenance Worker ████ is activating the incinerator. SCP-753 is visible among the waste.

07:42 AM
Image of a restaurant. Patrons are pointing at a chandelier, which has fallen from the ceiling. SCP-753 is visible under the chandelier.

08:35 AM
Image of a cottage. A man is walking towards the cottage, holding an axe and a smashed SCP-753.

09:27 AM
Image of a desert. A creature resembling a six legged wolf is in the process of destroying SCP-753.

10:12 AM
Image of a forest. Indistinct human figures are visible hanging from nooses. Notably, SCP-753 appears to be absent from the painting.

11:02 AM
Image of a forest. Indistinct human figures are no longer hanging, but are on the ground, looking directly forward. One is holding a crushed SCP-753 in its fist.

12:29 PM
Image of an indistinct human face, holding SCP-753 forward. Indistinct human face appears to be registering anger.

« SCP-752 | SCP-753 | SCP-754 »


SCP-754 rendered in pencil and crayon

Item #: SCP-754
Object Class: Euclid (Request for Keter classification under review, 20██/██/██)
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-754 is to be kept under constant surveillance in a Bio-Hazard Containment Chamber. The room must be equipped with a liquid nitrogen emergency coolant system. A shallow planter of standard potting soil has been placed next to SCP-754 to provide a "target zone" for germination events.
No instances of SCP-754 are to be retained outside of use in sanctioned experiments. Material containing SCP-754-1 may be incinerated.
To dispose of SCP-754, the room must be sealed and liquid nitrogen piped in until the ambient temperature has been at or below 150 K for a minimum of fifteen (15) minutes. SCP-754, any surrounding soil, and all instances of SCP-754-1 shall be incinerated, save one paper fragment of approximately twenty-five (25) square centimetres, which is to be treated as "seed stock" with a freshly-illustrated sheet. If SCP-754 germinates from a location other than the provided planter, the site should be sterilized with hydrochloric acid. In the event of containment system failure of SCP-754, its growth will be inhibited by temperatures below 250 K until automated systems are restored.
One (1) standard sheet of paper with hand-drawn illustrations is to be placed on the table as needed. Current procedures call for the replacement and disposal of the oldest illustration once the newer sheet shows evidence of buds; at the current rate of growth, replacement should occur every two to three days. If this rate is observed to increase, notify the level 3 supervisor (as of 20██/██/██, Doctor Cairns). Under no circumstances are any SCP objects containing hand-drawn illustrations to be allowed within twenty (20) metres of SCP-754-1.
Description: SCP-754 is superficially similar to Convolvulus arvensis, a flowering vine commonly known as "morning glory" or "field bindweed" in North America. Its leaves and vine are red with delicate black veins. Flowers, when present, are red with black mottling. SCP-754 will propagate in a manner similar to bindweed. However, it can overgrow any object, including those typically resistant to plant growth and water too deep for root stabilization. It can attain a top growth rate of █ metres per hour. It is inhibited by temperatures below 250 K (-23°C), and enters a dormant state when chilled below 150 K (-123°C).
SCP-754 is not limited to normal growth patterns, and can grow in paper media as an illustration (designated as SCP-754-1). It manifests itself as an additional image in hand-rendered illustrations, indistinguishable from the original contents in terms of medium, style, and scale. SCP-754-1 will propagate through the white space remaining on the material, as well as overgrowing illustrated objects. The growth rate is constant in the scale of the illustration; consequently, the linear spread across the material is not constant, and depends on the illustration. SCP-754-1 can also propagate to other illustrations within a fifteen (15) metre radius of the original medium; the time required to do so decreases with proximity and physical contact. Illustrations containing SCP-754-1 demonstrate a mild mind-affecting property: individuals below eighty (80) on the Psychic Resistance Scale will insist that SCP-754-1 has always been present in the illustration, and those below ninety (90) on the Psychic Resistance Scale will be reluctant to destroy SCP-754 unless prompted to or trained.
Illustrations containing SCP-754-1 will animate and change in response to the growth of SCP-754-1. Illustrations appear to be moving at a one-tenth (0.1 x) speed slow motion. It has not been determined if this occurs as a stop motion effect or as a constant movement. Volitional beings depicted in the illustration will react to SCP-754-1 and utilise other depicted objects as appropriate. The most common reaction observed is the attempt by individuals in the illustration to restrict or directly impede the growth of SCP-754-1.
When no white space remains on any illustrated material within range, SCP-754 will germinate within five (5) metres of SCP-754-1. This occurs no more than three (3) hours after the complete overgrowth of all white space in range. It will tend to appear where a non-anomalous plant could germinate.
SCP-754 instances can be destroyed by incineration. However, any root fragments left intact will be stimulated and cause immediate regeneration of SCP-754 within six (6) hours. Additionally, any chordate with mucous membrane contact to the ashes within twelve (12) hours will become a new medium for SCP-754 growth. Further instances of SCP-754 will then erupt from the petechiae of the plant. Dormant SCP-754 can be incinerated without inducing generation; root fragments must still be destroyed to prevent normal plant regrowth. No side effects have been observed from the incineration of material bearing SCP-754-1.
Addendum 754-01 - Circumstances of retrieval: SCP-754 was first brought to the attention of the Foundation when police officers in █████████, France, arrested an extremely agitated office worker who was found attacking courtyard weeds with a carbon dioxide (CO2) fire extinguisher. Foundation intervention was required when forty-five (45) infestations of SCP-754-1 subsequently developed in residential areas. Due to recommendations made by an office worker in custody, the containment team suffered no casualties. Following interrogation that lead to current containment procedures, the captured person of interest was released and amnesticized, though he is under periodic surveillance for future encounters with SCP-754.
Addendum 754-02: After the events of Experiment 754-07, personnel with figurative tattoos, brandings, or other decorative body modifications are forbidden from coming within twenty (20) metres of SCP-754, save for participation in approved experimentation.

« SCP-753 | SCP-754 | SCP-755 »


Item #: SCP-755
Object Class: Keter, containment pending.
Special Containment Procedures: The capture of SCP-755-a is to be considered a K class priority to all personnel assigned to SCP-755. Should SCP-755-a be captured alive, all possible effort is to be made to ensure their compliance, and they are to be delivered to Humanoid Detaining Facility 17 for questioning and study.
Any and all instances of SCP-755-b discovered are to be reported immediately to a superior and destroyed if possible. After encountering an instance of SCP-755-b, the discovering party is to seek a safe location within view of the instance and to remain observant for their own safety until the arrival of MTF Gamma-30, then to obey any orders or requests for assistance made by the MTF leader at that time.
Description: SCP-755-a (hereafter referred to as 'the vandal') is a graffiti vandal who is thought at the time of the archiving of this report to be active in San[REDACTED]ia, though the work of the artist has been sighted in eight other cities in the continental US and Europe, including Denver, CO, Newark, NJ, Muni[REDACTED] Security footage shows the vandal to be a light-skinned individual with a slim build who stands approximately two meters in height. From the basic body type shown in the footage, it is assumed though not confirmed that the vandal is male. The vandal regularly travels large cities, leaving behind instances of SCP-755-b.

Instance of SCP-755-b left on the entryway stairs of a private residence in [REDACTED]

SCP-755-b (hereafter referred to as 'the graffito') is a graffito, style and form varied by instance, that invariably reads (with incorrect capitalization remaining consistent in all instances) "WAtCh For thE WhitE Bird.". The graffito is typically written directly onto surfaces with marker or paint, or in some recorded instances (list available to personnel with level three clearance or higher upon request) inscribed on scrap material and left in prominent locations. The writing materials appear to have no anomalous properties, and several recovered instances are stored for study in the low risk materials sector of Site 93. Persons who read the graffito are invariably injured or killed in apparent accidents involving a white bird of some description. Extensive research has confirmed a statistical correlation between the accidents and having read the graffito, and that instances of the phrase written by persons other than the vandal do not correlate with accidents or injuries to any measurable extent.
SCP-755 was brought to the attention of the Foundation when an EMT discovered a journal belonging to the late investigative journalist Graham Scott on the scene of the seven-car pileup that resulted in the deaths of Scott and ██ other individuals. The journal details Scott's attempts to locate and interview the vandal, who he believed was attempting to warn the 'victims of the whte bird [sic]' in order to save their lives.
The white bird mentioned in the graffito and Scott's writing has not been confirmed to exist. In many events no bird can be confirmed to have been involved outside the direct testimony of the injured party, with some or all other witnesses claiming not to have seen any such avian at all, or with eyewitnesses disagree on the positioning, exact coloration, and species of the bird.
Addendum 755-1: Despite Scott's assertions, many Foundation researchers suspect that the vandal's role in the events preceded by viewing the graffito are causal rather than prophetic, and that the vandal seeks to further some agenda of their own, or merely enjoys the thrill of causing suffering and death. In light of this possibility, and given the established correlation between instances of the graffito and injuries or fatalities among otherwise unrelated persons, SCP-755 has been granted Keter level containment required status, and MTF Gamma-30, "Whitewatch", has been created to liaise with law enforcement to capture the vandal for study and questioning and destroy instances of the graffito as they are located.
Addendum-755-2: On [REDACTED]pears to have bypassed [DATA EXPUNGED] normal for an instance of the graffito but for the addition of the words "I'm sorry" in a small cursive font. The event was filed as usual by mem[DATA EXPUNGED]
Document 755-375:

Travers: Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Sorry about the flight delay. I'm sure you all saw the maintenance guys cleaning the graffiti off of the boarding ramp. Now that that's all out of the way, we can get ready to take off. It's a beautiful sunny day in LA, and weather conditions are absolutely perfect for flying. This is flight two seven niner to Houston, by the way, so if you aren't supposed to be onboard you should go ahead and disembark while you still can.
<21 minutes removed for brevity>
Travers: This is your captain speaking. I'm sure you've all seen the smoke, but don't panic, it's just a bird that got sucked into the engine. In a moment, the oxygen masks will drop as I prepare for an emergency landing. Put those on and follow the flight attendant's instructions, and we'll have you guys safely on the ground in no time. Again, please do as the flight attendants ask, and remain calm. Everything will be just fine.

« SCP-754 | SCP-755 | SCP-756 »


Item #: SCP-756
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-756's 10 m x 10 m cell is to remain accessible only by airlock. Personnel entering must wear EVA spacesuits (with an MMU if necessary) and ensure that they do not move too close to any of the planetoids in orbit. No lights are to be shone on or toward the planetoids, and anything that might be loosely described as a heat source must be kept as far from them as possible.
Developments on the surface of each planet are to be examined twice daily by a probe equipped with an electron microscope and a [DATA EXPUNGED], though recorded footage will have to be played in slow motion in order to make the slightest bit of sense.
In the event that Planet IV's inhabitants attempt to build another satellite weapon (see Incident Report SCP-756 A), personnel assigned to remove it must remain aware that although missiles fired from IV's surface cannot penetrate standard-issue spacesuits, helmets or visors, weapons platforms will almost certainly fire more quickly than the average human being can move.
Description: SCP-756 is a miniature solar system consisting of a single yellow sun and six orbiting planets, each with various moons and satellites. This system is restricted to the confines of a single large cell, originally intended for SCP-███. The cell itself is now devoid of gravity and atmosphere, a state believed to be brought about by SCP-756's “birth.”
The system's sun is approximately 68–70 cm in circumference, and is believed to be in the middle stages of its existence based on comparisons with archived footage. The planets orbiting it range in circumference from less than 7 cm to 28 cm.
SCP-756 was first discovered on the body of Researcher █████ ████ after he unexpectedly collapsed during a minor cell inspection in ██/██/████. For several hours beforehand, Mr ████ had been complaining of numerous painful boils on his back. Following his loss of consciousness, a cursory examination showed that these “boils” were actually minute fragments of rock protruding from his flesh.
However, one boil positioned on the back of Mr ████'s neck appeared to be emitting intense heat, likely the reason for his collapse: according to instruments situated within the cell, the temperature of this boil climbed from 70°C to above 550°C. By then, all witnesses had fled the cell and sealed the airlock behind them, leaving Mr ████'s incendiary death to be recorded by the security camera.
When it was ascertained that the heat emerging from the neck boil had stabilised and was not projecting further than two metres, personnel returned to the cell and found that the interior was now little more than a vacuum contained by reinforced concrete. The neck boil had become a new star, while the small rocky protrusions had begun to form simple planets. Since then, SCP-756 has remained under observation, with particular emphasis on the evolution of life in the system.
However, it has been observed that both the astronomical bodies and any life forms that may evolve upon them experience time at an accelerated rate: within a year of SCP-756's formation, the volcanic surfaces of several planets had given way to oceans, a process that normally would take millions of years.
Some years later, researchers observing Planet III noted the formation and collapse of an empire over the course of ten hours, estimated to measure at least a century in SCP-756's timespan.
The planets themselves, based on the latest survey, are:

Planet I: volcanic, and far too close to the sun to support life.

Planet II: generally mountainous terrain, with a large population of apparent non-sapients.

Planet III: mostly ocean dotted with islands of varying biome, presently inhabited by a sapient species of nomadic reptilians, with a religion based on ocean tides and the unexpected sight of Doctor ████████'s helmeted face in the night sky.

Planet IV: primarily composed of [DATA EXPUNGED] broken only by what appear to be missile silos and military installations, many of them believed to be covering underground cities.

Planet V: heavily populated, with many large settlements built around wildly varying terrains. Unlike IV, the inhabitants have not achieved space travel, and as a result, are currently at peace.

Planet VI: equally hospitable until the events of ██/██/████ (see Incident Report SCP-756 A) and has since reverted to uninhabited wastelands.

Addendum: Any personnel caught placing glow-in-the-dark stars on the walls of the cell will be reassigned to paperwork.

« SCP-755 | SCP-756 | SCP-757 »


Item #: SCP-757
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-757 has been transplanted to a garden plot at Bio Site-103, which is to be under constant surveillance. Access to SCP-757 requires authorization from a researcher with level 3 clearance. The plot is to be cleaned of all rotten instances of SCP-757-1 twice a month, and they are to be incinerated on-site.
Description: SCP-757 is a fruit producing tree similar to Prunus persica (common peach tree), that is 3.63m tall. The texture and properties of its wood are identical to that of a Malus domesticus (apple tree); it is easily broken, damaged, or burnt. Its leaves are identical to those of ordinary Prunus persica.
Every dawn, SCP-757 produces new fruits, which are collectively designated SCP-757-1. Growth takes five minutes on average, although the size of the fruit is directly proportional to the growth time. Instances of SCP-757-1 remain in place for the duration of the day, and at dusk fall to the ground and rot rapidly. The amount of time an instance of SCP-757-1 takes to rot is directly proportional to its size. Human beings viewing SCP-757-1 while it remains attached to SCP-757 display a minor compulsion to consume it. Instances of SCP-757-1 are universally reported to be "extremely sweet" and "delicious".
If a subject consumes any part of an instance of SCP-757-1, a new organ will form in the anterior of the subject's abdomen. This process is reported to be very painful. Over the course of a week, a new fruit of the type consumed by the subject forms inside this organ, causing further pain and visible swelling (and in the case of very large fruit, tissue damage). When the fruit is ripe, it is forced up a tube leading to the esophagus and ejected from the mouth, distorting the subject's tissue in order to pass. It almost always causes permanent damage in this passage, despite the fruit itself being distorted to some degree in the course of ejection. The object regurgitated is always an ordinary, perfectly formed specimen of the fruit type initially consumed. It does not possess SCP-757-1's anomalous properties.
SCP-757 has been observed to produce the following types of fruit, in decreasing order of frequency: peaches, plums, apples, pears, watermelons, bananas, pineapples, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, kumquats, kiwifruit, lemons, and (in one case) pumpkins.
There is presently no cure for SCP-757's effects. If the new organ is surgically removed before fruit regurgitation, it regrows at a rate identical to that of the first growth. Testing to determine a physical, chemical, genetic, or foreign cause of the effects is pending. Testing to determine whether SCP-757-1's juice retains its anomalous effects is pending approval. Proposals to cross-pollinate SCP-757 with SCP-1147 have been denied.
SCP-757 was discovered in ██████, ████████, after several reports of people regurgitating fruit appeared in a local newspaper. It was eventually discovered in the backyard of an abandoned house. A large amount of rotten fruit was found at its base, along with several malnourished corpses.

« SCP-756 | SCP-757 | SCP-758 »


Item #: SCP-758
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-758 is to be kept in comfortable living quarters with whatever amenities he desires so long as they are within Foundation protocol. 758's quarters need neither lock nor guard. If he is found wandering the halls, contact one of the doctors studying the subject. He is to receive three meals a day and any snacks he may request. When speaking directly to SCP-758, he is to be addressed as "Vasili" at all times.
Description: SCP-758 is a young Russian male, 1.9 meters tall, weighing roughly 110 kg. Full name Vasili ████ ██████████, found in ██████, Russia in 19██. The subject was diagnosed as an extremely low functioning autistic at the age of four.
While it is only speculation, some members of the staff believe that the symptoms which caused SCP-758 to be diagnosed with autism are a coping mechanism that has been developed in response to his ability. At present, researchers have been unable to ascertain whether or not he actually has autism or if this is the case.
Addendum: 758-1
Development
Records taken from the notes of Dr. ████ █ ██████, the subject's speech and behavioral therapist prior to coming to the Foundation.
Two years after his diagnosis, SCP-758 began displaying his ability to recognize and correct errors in the technical aspects of linguistics. At the age of six, SCP-758 began correcting mistakes in the newspaper his parents read. The corrections included mistakes in grammar, punctuation, spelling and syntax. During the following weeks, SCP-758 was given increasingly advanced material, including magazines, essays written for the classes the subject's mother taught, and eventually graduate level college text books and encyclopedia volumes.
Upon learning of what they believed to be a savant talent, SCP-758's Dr. ██████ advised limiting the subject to a single language so as not to over-stimulate him. At the age of ██, the subject found a pamphlet written in Mandarin on the ground outside a store. SCP-758 picked it up and after staring at the page for a few moments, began correcting the pamphlet in the same manner as he had done with the previous materials. Dr. ██████ began giving him materials in every language they could find.
Discovery
Agent ██████, while on psych leave (see Med 861379), overheard SCP-758's parents discussing his talents and reported what he heard to the Foundation immediately. Upon performing a CT scan and an MRI, it was discovered by Dr. Bright and Dr. English that the language center of the subject's brain was non-existent. This led to the conclusion that the subject was an SCP, as he should not be capable of any amount of linguistic processing, much less to the degree his ability allowed him. SCP-758 was immediately brought to Site ██ for study where he remains in containment. See Research Log 758 for records of progress.
-Dr. English
Addendum: 758-2 Effective immediately, SCP-758 is being reclassified as Safe and his containment procedures are being changed accordingly. He does not understand the Foundation's number designation system, so any personnel speaking to him directly should address him as Vasili if they wish to receive any kind of response. - Dr. English
Addendum: 758-3 It has been determined that SCP-758 is speaking truthfully when he claims that he does not understand the languages he is reading. As such, any personnel wishing to utilize SCP-758's ability for proofreading official documents may submit a request to Dr. Bright for access to the subject before or after his scheduled study sessions with Dr. English and Dr. Sarlin. -O5-█
Note: Yes, there is academic speculation about whether or not current translations of religious texts match the original messages of the same text. No, SCP-758 will not be used to find out. It just doesn't matter that much to us, so stop asking. - O5-█
Research Log 758
█ / █ / 19██ - It has now been three (3) weeks since I was assigned to research SCP-758's ability. To date no progress has been made as the subject is either unwilling or unable to interact with my staff. - Dr. English
█ / ██ / 19██ - We have begun leaving texts in SCP-758's quarters in hopes he will happen upon them in his own time, rather than attempting to coerce him. - Dr. Sarlin
██ / ██ /19██ - SCP-758 has begun making corrections to the texts we leave in his quarters and is also beginning to show some signs of recognition and trust towards Dr. Sarlin and myself. This is currently the limitation of his interaction. Thus far we have only provided the subject with modern terrestrial languages. - Dr. English
█ / █ / 19██ - Yesterday the subject was provided computer coding for the first time. Not sure of his abilities with a computer, the coding was printed on normal paper. The Subject simply stared at it with a confused look on his face. Today he was placed at a computer terminal with the same code on screen and after a few moments he began correcting errors in the code. - Dr. English
█ / ██ / 19██ - Today tests with dead languages and languages suspected to be of extra-terrestrial or extra-dimensional origin began. SCPs with knowledge of such languages, including SCP-███ and SCP-███ were asked to provide us with two samples of each language for comparison, one that was, to their knowledge, properly written and one that had a number of technical errors with a varied spectrum of subtlety. All SCPs complied with our request without resistance. SCP-758's ability once again proved effective. - Dr. Sarlin
██ / ██ / 19██ - Today the idea was brought up that SCP-758's ability may extend to math, since it technically can be considered a language. The subject was presented with basic algebra proofs, at which point he spoke for the first time since coming to the facility, informing us that math isn't really a language. - Dr. English
██ / █ / 20██ - Since SCP-758 began speaking to Dr. English and I, we have learned that when he looks at text, the only language he can actually read is his native Russian. All other languages he simply recognizes the errors that exist and how they should be corrected. - Dr. Sarlin
█ / █ / 20██ - Today it was discovered, by accident, that SCP-758's ability is not restricted to written language. As the subject passed two guards, he overheard them speaking French and, despite having no knowledge of the French language, corrected one of the guards on the way he constructed a sentence. Further testing will be required in this area. - Dr. English
██ / █ / 20██ - After more in depth study, it has been found that when applying his ability to spoken language, SCP-758 is capable of correcting dialect, accent and pronunciation in addition to the technical aspects of written language he can correct. When asked to read a written language aloud, he has proven fully capable of speaking the words but states he still does not understand them. - Dr. English
█ / ██ / 20██ - SCP-758 has shown an ability to essentially "translate across time." That is to say, his ability has an understanding of the concept of a living language and he has proven himself capable of changing a text written in a given time period and change any colloquialisms and evolved words to provide a "translated" copy that results in the same message as the original text. In cases where he has attempted this with dead languages, he fully translated the text into the nearest living language from the time period he was asked to change it to. While he can update texts to later generations of a language, it seems that he is not able to revert texts to older generations of a language. - Dr. English
██ / █ / 20██ - SCP-758 has shown himself able to produce the proper pronunciation of written words upon request. To date, Dr. Sarlin and I have learned to fluently speak multiple dead languages with assistance from SCP-758.

« SCP-757 | SCP-758 | SCP-759 »


Item #: SCP-759
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: All samples of SCP-759 are to be stored in wide-mouthed, airtight ceramic or glass-lined containers. Samples are to be kept at temperatures no lower than 0.9 °C and no higher than 11.4 °C unless in active use. Once per week, the following procedure is to be observed by the assigned personnel for each active sample:
- Record date/time of feeding, feeder name, and feeder emotional state at time of feeding
- Open sample container
- Record visual/olfactory condition of sample
- Pour off and retain upper layer of liquid OR stir into main sample as assigned by Foundation orders
- Remove 125 g of sample in an airtight inert container- retain for ongoing analysis or other use as required
- Add 125 g unbleached, unbromated all-purpose white flour and 125 g pure distilled water
- Stir with clean, unpainted wooden implement until fully incorporated
- Seal container and return to cold storage
All removed samples are to be tracked and accounted for.
Description: SCP-759 is a 500-gram mass of sourdough starter composed primarily of wheat flour and water. The starter's active component is an ongoing culture of wild yeasts (including Candida milleri and Saccharomyces exiguus) in symbiotic balance with multiple strains of Lactobacillus and Acetobacter organisms. The original sample first came to Foundation attention after a sudden spontaneous outbreak of attempted murders motivated by apparently baseless jealousy in [REDACTED] County, Vermont. Without exception, the would-be murderers had recently participated in a pancake breakfast fundraiser at the local Methodist church. Further investigation led directly to a single batch of 'Old-Fashioned Melt-In-Your-Mouth Sourdough Flapjacks' produced by a chef with a longstanding untreated case of borderline personality disorder. The chef's starter was confiscated and replaced with a visually and olfactorily indistinguishable sample of equal mass and volume.
Like all starters, SCP-759 acquires a certain amount of its internal composition from its immediate environment. What distinguishes it from other sourdough is its ability to absorb the emotional state of the individuals who tend it, feed it, and bake with it- and transmit that emotional state or a close derivative thereof to anyone who consumes the resultant end product. Relevant variables include length of exposure and intensity of emotional state. Absorption of emotional information ceases upon the baked product achieving 57.5°C for one full minute. Testing of emotional information absorption while samples are in a frozen or dried state is ongoing, but preliminary evidence indicates any such absorption is slowed to the point of negligibility.

Log of tests with SCP-759
Sample condition: Initial recovered sample, raised and fed daily at room temperature for one week. All researchers signed in at feeding time with emotional status of 'calm' or 'neutral'.
Sample use: Batch of 'Old-Fashioned Melt-In-Your-Mouth Sourdough Flapjacks' from original chef's recipe.
Result: No apparent change in emotional state of subjects. Flapjacks pronounced delicious.
Sample condition: Raised and fed weekly for one month by Class D personnel with documented anger management issues and poor impulse control.
Sample use: Two San Francisco-style baguettes.
Result: After consumption of approximately half of the first baguette with butter and jam, an argument broke out over the rightful ownership of the second. The question was rendered moot when one of the test subjects picked up the second loaf and attempted to beat his fellows senseless with it, effectively destroying the remaining bread.
Sample condition: Raised and fed weekly for one month by volunteers under the influence of mood-elevating medication.
Sample use: Sixteen plain bagels.
Result: Significant improvement of mood and temperament in 80% of test subjects for six hours. Remaining 20% experienced nausea, abdominal bloating, and fatigue. (May have been undiagnosed celiac sprue; the test subjects reported feeling significantly more philosophical and mellow about their condition than expected.)
Sample condition: Raised and fed weekly for one month by automated machinery; baked entirely by automated machinery in isolation.
Sample use: Three-stage French pain au levain.
Result: No emotional change noted. Several testers noted a tinny or metallic taste.
Sample condition: Kept in SCP-682's containment chamber for one hour.
Sample use: One loaf challah (braided style)
Result: Initial response appeared similar to that of the baguette experiment in that test subjects became aggressive and argumentative shortly after ingesting several slices. Rather than attacking each other, the test subjects finished the loaf, proceeded to the test kitchens, and began a systematic attempt at the destruction of every other baked good not made with SCP-759 as its primary leavening agent. Subjects proved difficult to subdue.
Sample condition: Also kept in SCP-682's containment chamber for one hour. Adulterated shortly thereafter with 10 grams dry domestic yeast (Saccharomyces cerevisiae).
Sample use: One batch English muffins (Experiment supervisor Dr. █████████ specifically requested the change to 'something with less weight to throw around if the testers get stroppy'), baked under same conditions as the aggression challah.
Result: Subjects immediately became cranky, uncooperative, and argumentative upon consumption of test product. The result has been unofficially dubbed 'grumpy muffins'.
Sample condition: Raised and fed daily at room temperature under the bed of newly married Agent for one week.
Sample use: Six blueberry muffins.
Result: [DATA EXPUNGED].
Sample condition: Raised and fed twice weekly for one month by personnel diagnosed with severe clinical depression.
Sample use: Unlike prior experiments, the liquid layer was not stirred into the main mass of the starter at feeding time, but drawn off and retained separately. Resultant product was then filtered to remove particulate matter and added to lone test subject's alcoholic beverage of choice for one week.
Result: "Liquid despair". Subject began to exhibit signs of emotional distress within minutes of consuming the first doped beverage. Psychological evaluation at the end of the week indicated a depressive state on the order of that diagnosed in 'feeder' personnel, including suicidal ideation. Symptoms had largely cleared two weeks after cessation of experiment, but lingering effects remained.
The possible Foundation uses for SCP-759 are numerous and should be self-evident. Requesting permission to test 'liquid despair' minimum potency and LD-50 as possible means of inducing suicide in otherwise problematic targets.

« SCP-758 | SCP-759 | SCP-760 »


Item #: SCP-760
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: Each specimen of SCP-760 is to be kept in an individual containment area. The locks on the doors to these containment areas are to be changed every month. Feedings composed of ██ g of a nutrient-rich paste are to be issued once a day. Specimens are only to be introduced to each other in experiments meant to observe social interactions and subsequent psychological events between specimens. At least two armed guards are to be posted outside of each containment area at any time.
Each containment area is to be lit with no more than one (1) 40 watt light bulb, and equipped with low-light surveillance cameras. In the event of an equipment malfunction, equipment should be manually replaced as soon as possible, as instances of SCP-760 have a tendency to disassemble maintenance equipment.
Personnel are allowed to give specimens of SCP-760 items that they no longer want or need, given that the objects do not violate current Foundation regulations and that they are approved by the overseeing researcher. Items requested for donation to SCP-760 include, but are not limited to:

Car keys (denied)
A broken clock (approved)
A 'Rubik's Cube' toy (approved)
Everyday trash (denied)
A broken Foundation computer (approved, provided that the hard drive is removed)

Description: SCP-760 is a vaguely humanoid species of animal, only three of which have ever been obtained by the Foundation. The skeletal and muscular system of SCP-760 differ greatly in areas from those of humans, the most notable effects of these differences being legs that extrude perpendicular to the torso and an ape-like curvature of the spine that results in a preference to walk on all fours. Other notable differences include the addition of an extra joint on each finger of SCP-760, and an average of 150% of the joint degrees of freedom that are allowed for humans. This makes SCP-760 much more flexible than the average human, which aids specimens of SCP-760 during feeding.
Where a face would be on a human, there is a mass of hair on SCP-760; this hair is shown to have some sort of sensory function that allows for sight in the dark. Underneath the hair, there are no eyes, nose, or mouth; however, the skin of the "face" is pulled taut as a part of a speaker-like vocal system. SCP-760 has muscle structures in the front of their head that they can use to vibrate the skin as if it were a drum head, producing a variable-pitched whine. Further observation led to the discovery that this vocal structure is also capable of opening and serving as a mouth. Within this mouth is a tongue, approximately 40 cm in length with a soft but coarse texture.
The epidermis of SCP-760 is shown to react to light in a way that makes them invisible; this is done via a complex system of reflective [DATA EXPUNGED] roughly 78% of SCP-760's skin. The hair on SCP-760's head disappears as well; biological analysis shows the hair to be similar in composition to a polar bear's. As light dims, however, this effect fades, and in very dim light it is possible to see SCP-760 completely. Removal of the skin also hinders this effect; and it appears to do so on more areas of SCP-760 than where the skin was removed, suggesting that the function of SCP-760's invisibility on any part of the body requires that same function on all surrounding parts. It is also worth noting that SCP-760 appears agitated when subjected to light for longer than what would be normal sunlight hours near latitude ██ N or ██ S.
Instances of SCP-760 are very docile under normal circumstances. They exhibit behavior and tendencies similar to canines or primates, thus making understanding what they are thinking relatively easy. They are generally curious creatures; any object that is placed in the containment area is almost sure to be examined thoroughly by them. They seem to enjoy toying with new things, particularly taking objects apart and examining their pieces. They also seem to enjoy attempting to figure out how things work, and as long as they are attempting to learn about something they are completely content to stay in the containment area. Contributions of objects by personnel have served as more than enough to keep this want for new objects appeased.
It is, generally speaking, entirely safe to enter the containment area, and specimens of SCP-760 seem to either enjoy or be indifferent to the presence of people. They have shown behaviors towards humans that are almost child-like in nature, and almost always benevolent. Instances of SCP-760 appear to be particularly interested in sleeping humans. In experiments performed investigating this, it was discovered that specimens of SCP-760 feed on human secretions and dead matter. When presented with a sleeping human, SCP-760 will proceed to carefully position itself over the subject, on to their chest if the subject is sleeping on their back, and begin vocalizing at approximately 20dB for a period of █ to ██ minutes. This vocalization appears to promote slow-wave sleep in ██ % of subjects, greatly reducing the chance of the subject awakening. The exact mechanism responsible for this effect is unknown, but is thought to involve [DATA EXPUNGED]. In the remaining █ %, the subject is largely unaffected by the vocalization and may regain some level of consciousness. Several subjects who have reported this experience have likened it to sleep paralysis, stating that they awoke to find themselves aware of an “inhuman” presence in the room but unable to move.
After this period, SCP-760 will use its tongue to consume any easily accessible secretions present on the subject including ocular discharge, hair oils, dead skin cells, pimples, and [REDACTED]. This process has been observed to be largely harmless to the subject. However, experimental observation indicates that if the subject shifts during sleep or some external event occurs SCP-760 may become startled and exert additional force on the subject, in several cases causing sore areas and slight bruising.
Addendum 760-01: Research into weaponising SCP-760's invisibility is pending approval.
Addendum 760-02: On ██/██/20██, 86 days after the initial discovery of SCP-760, another specimen of SCP-760 was obtained; revealing it to be a member of a species rather than an independent creature. Specimen previously in possession re-classified as SCP-760-01, and newly obtained specimen was classified as SCP-760-02. Research into the social interactions between the two began immediately following SCP-760-02's arrival at Sector 05.
Addendum 760-03: SCP-760-01 and 02 were observed taking part in what appears to be some sort of mating ritual, which involved █ consecutive hours of consistently "screaming" at each other and [DATA EXPUNGED] resulted in the immediate medical treatment of SCP-760-01, and the knowledge that specimens of SCP-760 are hermaphroditic.
Addendum 760-04: SCP-760-02 gave birth. Subject titled SCP-760-03.
Incident Report 760-01-I: On ██/██/20██, at approximately 21:48, one of the guards posted to contain SCP-760-01 fell asleep on his shift. SCP-760-01 was somehow able to "see" this, suggesting that the hairs on its face allow it to sense through walls. It then proceeded to its containment door and partially disassembled it from the inside, a process taking roughly █ hours, and proceeded to feed on the guard as he slept. The other guard was unaware of this due to SCP-760-01's active camouflage in the hallway lights, but proceeded to coax it back into its containment area the moment he realized what was happening.

« SCP-759 | SCP-760 | SCP-761 »


Item #: SCP-761
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-761's frame is to be contained in a standard containment chamber, located in Site-77. No net is to be attached to SCP-761, except for testing purposes. The testing chamber is to be suspended 25 meters from any other surface, only accessible via elevator. Any materials or documents relating to SCP-761 have been stored in Site-77's non-anomalous documentation area.
Description: SCP-761 is a steel trampoline frame, 2m in diameter and 3.5 meters tall. It shows no manufacturers mark, apart from a tag on the bottom of the original net which reads "PROTO-5".
Any solid object impacting SCP-761's surface with a momentum exceeding 250 kg*m/s will vanish upon impact. Testing has determined that the object is instantaneously transported to a random location up to fifteen meters away, while retaining its momentum. This effect has resulted in a number of users being entombed and asphyxiating. The object transported by SCP-761 does not appear to displace any material upon relocation, suggesting matter replacement based on volume. The location to which SCP-761 displaces the material is not known at this time.
SCP-761 was recovered from a residential home in ███████, IN1, where it had been in use during a children's birthday party. Local police had been called to the home when several children using SCP-761 had been subjected to its anomalous effect. Foundation agents were able to cover up the incident, issuing Class-B amnestics to witnesses and relatives. During follow-up containment operations, an address was found leading to a party supply store from which SCP-761 had been rented.
The company in question was investigated and found not to stock trampolines. Security camera recordings showed SCP-761 being sold in front of the store by an employee, whose vehicle was recovered behind the store. Interviews with the subject indicate that she had obtained SCP-761 from a local waste dump and had no knowledge of its properties. However, several documents recovered from the vehicle indicated otherwise. Subject was not detained and has been designated a person of interest, with attendant remote monitoring.
It has been found that subjects affected by SCP-2403 are not subject to SCP-761's anomalous effect.
Addendum: Excerpt from a recovered document. The document in question appeared to regard to SCP-761's development, but was heavily damaged by water and age. The following sections are the largest legible portions of the text.

….tests appeared to indicate steel was the best material, due to its durability. The safety features have seen some good progress in the prototyping stage, and we hope to see them implemented by June. Bernard thinks it'll be a real hit and I agree. The saf…

We have a prototype! Jason tossed a cat onto the trampoline from 30 feet and it just appeared like 10 feet away! Now, it was stuck in the ground, but it was alive! Bossman says we're moving onto more advanced tests soon. I hope we aren't being too hasty, but this is some exciting stu…

We started limited human testing today. We had a group of 10 boys and 10 girls together, and they seemed to be pretty excited. We had them jumping on the prototype, and they seemed pretty happy about it. During displacement they were a little woozy, but fine. The only bad bit was when one kid got his foot stuck in a

i feel like I'm gonna be sick we were testung today i don't know what went wronf but one of the kids just disappaered. we dug around everywher and you know where she was? IN the concrete. we need to stop,we need to stop. This is wrong wrong I killed a kid today. I let them kill her

they did it wrong. I warned them this would happen. Do they listen to me? No, they go out and sell them anyways. They aren't safe anymore, we know this. All it was supposed to do was take kids off if they were too big or got unruly. But they all go under. It's killing them and nobody is stopping

it's gone

Footnotes
1. The same city SCP-2812 was recovered from.

« SCP-760 | SCP-761 | SCP-762 »


Item #: SCP-762
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-762 is held inside a storage crate at Site ██. As SCP-762 does not appear to be dangerous to anyone not placed inside of it, no further precautions are required. Anyone wishing to experiment with SCP-762 must get authorization from Dr. Rights.
Description: SCP-762-1 is a torture device similar to the infamous Iron Maiden of Nuremberg. It was recovered in 19██ from a box in the basement of [DATA EXPUNGED] in ██████, Austria. When opened, SCP-762 was found to have a male human in it, now known as SCP-762-2. When found inside SCP-762-1, SCP-762-2 had the device's large spikes embedded in his flesh, but when removed from SCP-762-1, all of the subject's wounds healed instantly. SCP-762-2 was found to be completely catatonic, but otherwise in decent health except for several rotten teeth and a large scar on his left arm. Given the unique properties of SCP-762-1, it may be impossible to determine how long SCP-762-2 was in the device. Dating on the device shows that it dates back to the late fifteenth century, so it is possible that SCP-762-2 has been in the device for centuries.
Any person placed inside SCP-762-1 appears to enter a state of suspended animation. Subjects no longer need food, water, or even air when inside SCP-762-1. Subjects also appear to be immune to the effects of disease or injury when inside SCP-762-1, including the large wounds inflicted by SCP-762-1 itself. Subjects do, however, remain conscious, and the experience is described as being very painful. Once subject is removed from SCP-762-1, all wounds inflicted by the device are instantly healed. Since all physiological processes except for cognition are suspended while in SCP-762-1, it seems likely that a person placed in it will not age.

« SCP-761 | SCP-762 | SCP-763 »