SCP-1913 - The Furies

49 6c 69 27 67 20 76 67 66 20 66 6f 79 79 69 20 75 61 6c 61 6a 6f 66 20 69 6f 6f 79 75 61 79 20 66 6f 79 69 6c 20 6c 79 79 6b 20 66 69 27 20 70 79 2e An explosive dog and a skeleton rampaging for their inky cat statue.
Aggie's statue was made by BlooberryRei for their TTRPG! Watch it here, it's funny!
Freddie's image was taken by Brad.K, and edited by me.

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F.A.Q.

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Item#: SCP-1913

Level3

Containment Class:
euclid

Secondary Class:
{$secondary-class}

Disruption Class:
vlam

Risk Class:
critical

link to memo

Assigned Site
Site Director
Research Head
Assigned Task Force

Site-45
Dr. Harold Crot
REDACTED
Convoy Omega-8 (aka "The Cats In The Cradle")

SCP-1913-1

Special Containment Procedures:

[+] REVISION-7

[-] REVISION-7

(04/04/191█)
Convoy Omega-8 (aka "The Cats In The Cradle") has been formed to handle the containment, research, and transfer of SCP-1913-1, and the avoidance and clean-up of SCP-1913-2 and SCP-1913-3 attacks. SCP-1913-1 is to be kept in a lead case equipped with a single speaker, to aid in interrogation. SCP-1913-1 is not to be allowed outside of its box, unless confined to a windowless room, and is not to know its location.
Convoy Omega-8 is to maintain constant movement across underpopulated areas of America, and be prepared for engagement of both SCP-1913-2 and SCP-1913-3. Brief stops between sites for fuel, food, and equipment repair are permitted. Personnel are to wear latex gloves while directly handling SCP-1913-1, and are to avoid skin contact at all times. If unprotected physical contact is made, staff are to immediately wash their hands of any ink-like substance. If stains begin to spread, the affected staff are to be terminated before symptoms occur.
Containment of SCP-1913-1 is to be considered a priority until improved containment procedures can be developed. SCP-1913-1 must not be given to SCP-1913-2 or SCP-1913-3 under any circumstances. SCP-1913-2 and SCP-1913-3 have yet to be contained. Authorization has been given for any and all measures deemed necessary to neutralize SCP-1913-2 and SCP-1913-3.

REVISION-8
(04/12/191█)
All SCP-1913 instances are to be contained at least 1600 km away from each other, in areas where the Foundation has established major sites (for specific locations of each SCP-1913 instance, refer to Document 1913-53).1 Each SCP-1913 instance is to be placed in the middle of a tubular glass ring with a radius of 4 m. The inside of the glass ring is to be filled with sulfur dust.
Personnel are to wear latex gloves while handling SCP-1913-1, and are to avoid skin contact at all times. If unprotected physical contact is made, staff are to immediately wash their hands of any ink-like substance. If stains begin to spread, the affected staff are to be terminated before symptoms occur.
Injuries caused by SCP-1913-2 may require termination if they cannot be healed. Staff must remove any visible armor or lab coats before entering SCP-1913-2's cell to prevent aggravation.
SCP-1913-3's cell is to be blast and fireproofed. Entry into SCP-1913-3's ring is not permitted.
Description: SCP-1913 is the collective term for three separate entities, designated SCP-1913-1, SCP-1913-2, and SCP-1913-3. SCP-1913 instances do not show signs of mortality, either regenerating fatal injuries over time, or reappearing near the place of 'death' when its body has been destroyed within an hour. All SCP-1913 instances have shown an extreme aversion to sulfur, being either unwilling or unable to touch or cross over it without assistance.
SCP-1913-1 is a sapient ceramic statue depicting a cat, measuring 20.5 cm in height and weighing 8.3 kg. SCP-1913-1 has the name 'Agatha' etched on the bottom, and is decorated with white gloss paint on the nose, ears, and forehead, and a black, wet ink-like substance around the object's eyes, mouth, and paws. SCP-1913-1 is capable of communication, emanating a young female voice from its interior. SCP-1913-1 has shown disdain towards Foundation personnel, but is cooperative when threatened through the shaking of its container. SCP-1913-1 has given considerable information regarding other SCP-1913 instances' abilities and reasons for pursuit, but has also been known to withhold information or give false statements relevant to its own containment, such as it not detailing its detestation towards sulfur.
The ink covering SCP-1913-1's eyes, mouth, and paws is composed of 50.9% water, 48% ash, 0.9% salt, and 0.2% silver. Upon contact with a living subject's epidermis, the substance will be absorbed by the subject's pores. Depending on the quantity of ink, the affected areas will rapidly begin to dissolve, and eventually disappear. The subject does not seem to die from this process until the entire body has been dissolved, despite the disappearance of vital organs. If the torso has been consumed, but the subject's limbs remain, the limbs will continue to function until completely dissolved, usually attempting to move across the floor and grab nearby objects or legs.
SCP-1913-1's ink does not appear to be capable of spreading on to objects, cadavers, dead tissue such as hair or fingernails, or those who have not touched SCP-1913-1 in the past 8 hours, and is only capable of causing the disappearance of living tissue. Unless contact is made with the subject's blood stream, washing off the substance around the affected areas is sufficient to prevent its effects, though scarring may occur. SCP-1913-1's ink is harmless when diluted with water.
SCP-1913-2 is an animate humanoid skeleton covered in dark hair and ash, which gives it the physical shape of a female humanoid. SCP-1913-2's skeleton is human in structure, with the exception of its skull and digits, which appear to belong to a large canine. SCP-1913-2 is capable of moving at speeds of up to 65 kph, despite lacking the tissues required for motility.
SCP-1913-2 does not appear to be sapient, and appears to act almost entirely on the orders given to it by either SCP-1913-1 or SCP-1913-3. It is presumed that SCP-1913-3 has taught SCP-1913-2 to attack anyone wearing either a lab coat or the standard armor commonly worn by Convoy Omega-8 (formerly known as "The Cats In The Cradle") on sight prior to Event-1913-3, due to the specific nature of these triggers. Otherwise, unless provoked or provided with an insufficient amount of food, SCP-1913-2 is unexpectedly docile.
SCP-1913-2 will attack its victims when provoked, typically through clawing at the victim. However, despite major organ damage and blood loss, SCP-1913-2 is not capable of killing a victim. Subjects will show continued life signs until sustaining fatal injuries from another source, including non-anomalous wounds and the effects of SCP-1913-1's ink. If an organ or limb has been separated from the subject, then that organ will continue to live independently from the subject. Subjects will not die if an organ separated from its body via SCP-1913-2 dies.
SCP-1913-2 will continue attacking a victim until either the victim ceases moving, typically from shock, or another subject provokes it. Although SCP-1913-2 does not require substance for survival, it has shown a proclivity towards eating the meat of its victims, and will become agitated if food is not provided. SCP-1913-3 refers to SCP-1913-2 as 'Telly'.

SCP-1913-3. Click to Enlarge.

SCP-1913-3 appears to be adolescent, male black Labrador retriever (Canis lupus familiaris), lacking a mouth, nose and eyes. SCP-1913-3's face consists of several ragged holes mimicking a grinning visage, which reveals a dim white light. SCP-1913-3 is sapient, and refers to itself as 'Freddie'. SCP-1913-3 refuses to elaborate on its reasons for its pursuit of SCP-1913-1 beyond 'family matters', but it has been reported that SCP-1913-3 does not want to harm SCP-1913-1. Information from SCP-1913-1 suggests a physical change in SCP-1913-1's form, but has not been confirmed.
When SCP-1913-3 collides with an object or subject, SCP-1913-3 will emit a burst of grey colored flames from the holes in its face. Flames produced in this manner reach temperatures of up to 1200 °C (~2192 °F), and have the expected effect upon coming into contact with non-living objects.
Fires started due to contact with these flames will continue to burn until a subject's skin has been fully consumed, or until the fire has been put out. Subjects will suffer severe burns from exposure to SCP-1913-3, typically resulting in complete loss of sight, hearing, and touch. The termination attempts of the victims of SCP-1913-3 have only been successful when the victims have been dissolved by the ink of SCP-1913-1. Unless 'blocked' by a significant amount of sulfur, SCP-1913-3 is able to determine the general location of other SCP-1913 instances. SCP-1913-3 periodically experiences mood swings, ranging from neutral to aggressive, often cursing containment personnel. SCP-1913-3 has been responsible for at least two major fires following the 24th of March, 191█.
SCP-1913-1 Recovery: On 03/24/191█, SCP-1913-1 was discovered at the V███████ harbor upon investigation of a local shipwreck. Agent Crowely discovered SCP-1913-1 in the wreckage of the ███████, which was believed to have been in transit to New York City, but was instead on route to S████. Two bodies were found in the wreckage, but the remaining 2█ passengers were missing.
After learning of the properties of SCP-1913-1, two life boats loaded with 2█ cadavers were planted in V███████ waters to throw off groups of interest. Cadavers were D-class personnel who have died during testing. Due to the ship's state of disrepair prior to voyage, the sinking of the ███████ was proclaimed to have been caused by its mechanical condition.
Encounter-001 Report: Upon SCP-1913-1's arrival at Site-██ on 04/02/191█, SCP-1913-2 and SCP-1913-3 attacked the site, causing emergency evacuation protocols to be activated. SCP-1913-2 repeatedly threw SCP-1913-3 at the escape vehicle carrying SCP-1913-1, which caused considerable damage to the vehicle before escaping. SCP-1913-2 and SCP-1913-3's exclusive interest in SCP-1913-1 led to the formation of Convoy Omega-8, and the collective designation of the three entities.
Encounter-015 Report: An additional attempt to capture either SCP-1913-2 or SCP-1913-3 has failed. SCP-1913-2 and SCP-1913-3 have yet to cease pursuit of Convoy Omega-8. SCP-1913-2's constant movement, apparent knowledge of Foundation vehicles, and SCP-1913-3's constant explosive nature has made containment of the entity difficult. Tranquilizer darts, blasts of water, fire, and gunfire have been utilized, but have yet to subdue either entity.
Encounter-029 Report: SCP-1913-2 and SCP-1913-3 followed and attacked Convoy Omega-8 while it was receiving supplies at Site-45-A. Convoy Omega-8 requested back-up, but was incapacitated before arrival. Dr. Hayward and Agent Crowely attempted to proceed to the roof to await evacuation with SCP-1913-1, but were led into Research Lab 1██, where Agent Crowely prevented SCP-1913-3's acquisition of SCP-1913-1, while preventing Dr. Hayward's termination. For more information, see Interview 1913-A. SCP-1913 has been reclassified as Euclid.
Interview 1913-A:

Interviewed: Agent Sarah Crowely
Interviewer: Dr. Andrew Toki
<Begin Log>
Agent Crowely: Can I say something for the record?
Dr. Toki: Wha- Oh, go ahead.
Crowely: It was a mistake to put Dr. Hayward up with The Cats in the Cradle. The kid's bright, but he's too green. He just got out of school; he hardly even knows the difference between mind-altering effects and infohazards. He didn't do anything wrong, but if he just… I apologize. I like the kid, and I'm obviously biased, but he could've been more prepared if he was assigned to a safer group first; experienced these things instead of getting some lecture about it… [exhales] Sorry, I needed to get that off my chest.
Dr. Toki: It's fine.
Crowely: … You wanted to ask me about encounter twenty-nine, right?
Dr. Toki: Please.
Crowely: Right. We only needed basic supplies: food and fuel. We weren't expecting to spend more than a few minutes at 45, but we were all kinds of jumpy. We hadn't seen the dog or the girl for days, so we were expecting something from them. Hayward and I were hauling Dash One to the site's garage, and sure enough, the car exploded behind us. They must've been following us, waiting till we got to another site to attack, because they seem to've attacked us immediately after the twelve of us got out.
Dr. Toki: And this is when you alerted Site-45, and attempted to reach the roof for evac?
Crowely: Yes. Either that or let them do god knows what with it. Didn't matter much though, because we ended up in some poor bastard's lab, with those two banging down the door. Two started throwing itself at the door till Dash Three told it to move over before it blew the door off, which set off the sprinklers. That… thing, Three, just walked right up to me. Didn't do anything: didn't attack, didn't explode, didn't have the girl attack, and have it explode, it just sat there. Only thing I could think to say was 'Why?'… Its been a long time since I felt so powerless… It told me that it was doing this as a service, that its flame was redemption. It said that they can't see, can't hear, can't feel; they're just left with themselves… see no evil, and all that…
Dr. Toki: What happened to Dr. Hayward?
Crowely: [pause] The idiot threw a microscope at it… Didn't matter much, Dash Three knocked him into the counter afterward. It was steamed, clearly. Hayward got burned, but he was soaked too. Prevented him from burning too bad… I don't know why, but Three told Two to kill him for it. Maybe it thought the kid was beneath it or figured that Two'd do a better job.
Ended up picking the kid up and throwing him to the far wall, crashing into these jars of sulfur before… Well, before Dash Two reached through his chest. Dash Two was about to charge him, but it stopped. Three seemed to get angry at Two till it took a look at the rocks covering Hayward. I put two and two together and assumed that the rocks were what was spooking them, so I did what I could… It felt good, seeing those things actually running from us for a change… Hey, is that all? I'm hoping to see some people at the infirmary before visiting hours close.
Dr. Toki: You said to remind you that you wanted to share a concern about the SCP-1913 entities as a whole? What was it?
Crowely: Ah, yeah, Hayward was going to report it at Site-45. He's been interrogating Dash One for a while, and got something out of it. He's had his suspicions about how SCP-1913 functions, and felt that there was something more to it than what we knew. Didn't tell me, but it seemed urgent. Thought it was worth bringing up.
Listen, I'd tell you if I knew it, but all I really know is that I lived to see those things tear out Hayward's fucking heart… And so did he.
<End Log>
Closing Statement: Dr. Hayward was released from intensive care one month after this interview, recovering from third degree burns over his arms and torso, and the cauterization of a hole through his chest. Mentions of the release or creation of a fourth entity if SCP-1913-2 or SCP-1913-3 reaches SCP-1913-1, in addition to a physical change in SCP-1913-1, has been discussed with Dr. Hayward and was confirmed by SCP-1913-1, but denied by SCP-1913-3.

Footnotes
1. DOCUMENT 1913-53 version-1

SCP-1913-1: Site-45-C, Las Vegas. Floor 7, Secure Holding Cell #703.
SCP-1913-2: Site-██, Orlando, Fla. Floor ██, Secure Holding Cell #████.
SCP-1913-3: Site-██, New York City. Floor █, Secure Holding Cell #███.

« SCP-1912 | SCP-1913 | SCP-1914 »


Item #: SCP-1914
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1914 is to be housed in a modified humanoid containment cell equipped with ventilation appropriate for preventing exhaust buildup. Every 10-12 hours, SCP-1914's engine must be activated for at least two hours in order to allow its battery to recharge fully; while active, it is to be fed approximately 250 grams of nutrient-supplemented baby food and one half-liter of purified water to maintain its organic components, and may at its request be provided reading glasses and books or music published prior to 1916 for recreational purposes. SCP-1914 is to be provided with a cane for ease of movement within its cell, and is to be transported by wheelchair or stretcher and accompanied by a medical professional at all times if removed from its cell for testing or examination while active.
While inactive, SCP-1914's fuel tank is to be refilled with standard diesel fuel, its waste tank is to be drained, and it is to undergo medical and mechanical examination at least once per week. At least once per month, SCP-1914's oil tank and radiator are to be drained, flushed, and refilled with fresh motor oil and coolant. Any mechanical components in danger of breaking or malfunctioning are to be replaced with components of identical construction as soon as possible and any illness or physical injury not directly related to SCP-1914's anomalous nature is to be treated immediately. SCP-1914 is considered to be at high risk for viral/bacterial infection and is not to be exposed to any staff members suffering from infectious diseases.
Description: SCP-1914 is a human male approximately 1██ years of age as of ██/██/20██, who is believed to have undergone extreme mechanical modification during the early 20th century. SCP-1914's heart, lungs, liver, pancreas, gallbladder, appendix, segments of the small and large intestines, colon, bladder, urinary, and reproductive organs have been removed, and approximately 83% of the specimen's epidermis (with the exception of areas covering the face, right upper leg, and left shoulder) has been replaced with leather. X-ray examination indicates that portions of the musculoskeletal structure in the limbs have been surgically removed and replaced with latex, steel rods, and automotive pistons, and that tubing has been installed allowing liquid coolant and motor oil to travel through the body. A fuel tank, oil tank, and coolant tank have been mounted to the specimen's back, which hold a maximum of five US gallons (18.9 liters), five US quarts (4.73 liters), and one US gallon (3.78 liters) of diesel fuel, motor oil, and coolant respectively.
SCP-1914's abdominal cavity contains an unbranded automobile battery, a radiator (which partially protrudes from the specimen's right side), and a compact two-stroke diesel engine powered by the fuel tank mounted to the specimen's back. The engine is activated by means of a pull cord extending out of SCP-1914's back below the fuel tank; when active, energy produced by the engine provides power to a mechanical pump and bellows installed within the thoracic cavity, which replicate the functions carried out by the heart and lungs in healthy human beings, and charges the battery, which allows these functions to continue while the engine is inactive. While its engine is running, SCP-1914 is conscious and fully aware of its surroundings; when inactive, the specimen becomes non-responsive and enters a state of brain activity resembling non-REM deep sleep. SCP-1914 requires food and water to maintain the health of its organic components; waste matter produced by its digestive tract is expelled into a tank contained in its lower abdomen, which must be manually drained by means of a hatch located between its thighs.
SCP-1914 speaks fluent English with an accent characteristic of the area of Birmingham, England, UK. In its active state, SCP-1914 has been observed to have difficulty standing or walking under its own power; during testing, the specimen has described having extreme difficulty maintaining its sense of balance, and does not appear to be able to bend its right knee, manipulate the toes on either foot, manipulate the fingers on its right hand, or extend either arm above its shoulders. Maximum unassisted walking speed of SCP-1914, when provided with a cane, is approximately 0.5 kilometers per hour. SCP-1914's neck is rigid and it is incapable of turning its head without pivoting the rest of its body. SCP-1914 possesses 20/60 vision and states that it is able to hear people speaking loudly in its presence, but that it possesses no sense of smell or taste, cannot sense ambient temperature, that it does not feel hunger or thirst when deprived of food and water, and that it does not feel pain when its organic components are damaged.

+ Show Interview Log 1914-1

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Interview Log 1914-1
Interviewed: SCP-1914
Interviewer: Dr. S. Samesh
<Begin Log>
Dr. Samesh: Please state your name.Dr. Samesh: You're in the army, then?Dr. Samesh: Which war?Dr. Samesh: How old were you when you signed up?Dr. Samesh: How did you end up the way you are now?Dr. Samesh: Did this happen to you there?Dr. Samesh: When did it happen?Dr. Samesh: Who were they?Dr. Samesh: What sort of project?Dr. Samesh: Is that what happened?Dr. Samesh: Did they do all this at once?Dr. Samesh: Is that why so much of your skin was replaced?Dr. Samesh: Was it easier to move at any point than it is now?Dr. Samesh: Were there others?Dr. Samesh: How so?Dr. Samesh: What happened when they were finished working on you?Dr. Samesh: What did you say?Dr. Samesh: Why not?Dr. Samesh: What happened after that?Dr. Samesh: Did you ever ask to be let out?Dr. Samesh: How long did that continue?Dr. Samesh: Very well. That's all the questions I have for today.Dr. Samesh: What's that?Dr. Samesh: We'll look into it.Dr. Samesh: Yes?<End Log>

+ Show Addendum - Level 4 Clearance Required

- CLEARANCE GRANTED

Addendum: During surgery on ██/██/20██ to replace a damaged valve in SCP-1914's pulmonary pump, the words "Mark 1 Refurbished Infantry Personnel: Prototype 1916-317A, Property of Prometheus Labs (Patent Pending)" were discovered embossed on a metal plate attached to the pump. Investigation into a link between Prometheus Labs and the British government during the First World War, and any further cooperation between the two thereafter, is pending.

« SCP-1913 | SCP-1914 | SCP-1915 »


Item #: SCP-1915
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1915 is to be kept in its self-modified humanoid containment unit. Furniture and sustenance are unnecessary, as SCP-1915 provides them itself. One guard is to escort SCP-1915 during its daily walk around the designated yard. No expensive or sensitive equipment is to be brought into SCP-1915's vicinity.
Description: SCP-1915 is a Caucasian man, thirty three (33) years old, of an unexceptional build and height, identified as █████ ███ ██████ by the documents it was carrying on its person at the time of its retrieval. A background check revealed no relatives or close friends. SCP-1915's anomalous nature stems from a localized causality abnormality which negates any significant long term changes to its body, personality, memory or lifestyle. SCP-1915 alters reality in its close vicinity as is necessary to maintain its personal status-quo. SCP-1915's effects are largely limited to non-living matter manipulation and internal mental manipulation, and are incapable of permanently affecting living creatures other than SCP-1915 itself. SCP-1915 does not appear to be aware of its anomalous properties, and the mild-to-moderate discontent it expressed concerning its life during several interviews suggests it possesses limited, if any, control over them. SCP-1915 is unaware of its containment, believing it is still employed at the offices of the now defunct ██████ Corporation, where it was recovered.
Addendum-1915-A: Incident Log 1915

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Incident-1915-A
Date: ██/██/2███
Location: Offices of the ██████ Corporation, ██████ ██████, ██
Description: During its initial recovery, SCP-1915 was escorted to Site-17 by Mobile Task Force Delta-17 (“Green Caps”). As it was being transported, SCP-1915 altered MTF Delta-17's armored vehicle to the form of a No.██ city bus, which SCP-1915 used in its commute to work while it was still employed. SCP-1915 was seemingly convinced the members of the Task Force were other passengers. Agent ██████, who was driving the vehicle at the time, was briefly convinced that he was the bus driver, and assumed the bus's usual route. Verbal persuasion from other Task Force members proved sufficient in negating this effect, and SCP-1915 was safely transported in the altered vehicle to Site-17.
Incident-1915-B
Date: ██/██/2███
Location: Site-17, Humanoid Containment Wing, Cell 257
Description: Upon arriving at its designated cell, SCP-1915 converted it to an exact replica of its apartment (located at [REDACTED]). Electronic devices continued functioning without an external power source, and the bathroom maintained both a running water supply and sewage access. When removed from the converted cell, objects did not retain this anomalous property. SCP-1915 assumed that escorting Site security members and researchers are neighbors and local service givers.
Incident-1915-C
Date: ██/ ██/2████
Location: Site-17, Humanoid Containment Wing, cell 257, Maintenance Closet 17
Description: The morning following its initial containment, SCP-1915 exited its cell (despite it being locked), and entered a nearby maintenance closet. Site security dispatched to the scene discovered the closet was converted to mimic SCP-1915's cubicle at ██████, including working telephone and internet connections. When confronted by Site security, SCP-1915 apologized for "coming after hours to finish the budget report", claiming that it needed the extra income.

Addendum-1915-B: Interview Log SCP-1915-3

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Interviewer: Dr. ████
Interviewed: SCP-1915
Forward: This interview was held a week after SCP-1915's recovery. During that time, SCP-1915 has maintained the same set daily routine.
<Begin Log>
Dr.████: Good afternoon, SCP-1915.Dr.████: SCP-1915, are you aware of where you are?Dr.████: This isn't your office.Dr.████: That's not what I meant… I don't think so, at least.
Dr.████: Er. Junior accountant. Bernstein's team.Dr.████: Yeah, next to the coffee machine.Dr.████: Um, sure, I guess.
Dr.████: Sure?Dr.████: That's…nice. Listen, I think the boss is waiting for me, so-<End Log>

« SCP-1914 | SCP-1915 | SCP-1916 »


Item #: SCP-1916
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: All known instances of SCP-1916 are to be stored in a sealed crate in the secure warehouse at Site 85. Prominent signage is to be placed on and inside the crate indicating that SCP-1916 is non-edible. Mobile Task Force Xi-1964 (Slugworth's Sizzlers) are to monitor distributors and vendors of confections and confiscate any instances of SCP-1916 found in circulation.
All testing of SCP-1916 is to be conducted on D-class personnel who have been implanted with subdermal tracking devices. Outdoors testing is authorized at the remote facility adjacent to Site 85; in the event that an affected D-class breaches containment, use of surface-to-air weaponry to neutralize the test subject is authorized. Pending a full review of the results of Experiment 1916-6-1, all testing on SCP-1916-6 is prohibited.
Description: An instance of SCP-1916 consists of six hard sugar confections of the type commonly referred to as "jawbreakers" or "gobstoppers", designated SCP-1916-1 through SCP-1916-6. Chemical analysis indicates that SCP-1916 are primarily composed of sugar and trace amounts of common food additives and colorings, as well as significant quantities of [REDACTED]. Each individual candy is spherical, measuring approximately 3 cm in diameter, and is brightly colored in a distinct pattern as follows:

SCP-1916-1 is a uniform shade of bright red.
SCP-1916-2 is colored a light beige with whitish streaks.
SCP-1916-3 is white with several darker sections arranged in a pattern resembling the Earth's moon.
SCP-1916-4 possesses several horizontal streaks colored orange and white, with several small white and red spots, including a single large red spot.
SCP-1916-5 is a uniform shade of black.
SCP-1916-6 is a uniform shade of black with a large white question mark printed across one side.

SCP-1916's anomalous effects manifest when an individual candy is consumed by a human being. Within 10-20 minutes of consumption, the individual's weight will increase or decrease by a fixed percentage based on which candy the subject has consumed. No physical change in the subject's size or mass has been observed in conjunction with this effect; the means by which SCP-1916 produces this effect is not currently understood. The subject will function as though the gravitational field of their current environment has been significantly altered; subjects testing SCP-1916 have in certain instances demonstrated an ability to jump or carry well in excess of normal human ability, and in several instances have proven able to escape Earth's gravitational field entirely as the result of their own physical ability. This effect lasts for approximately 90 minutes before gradually dissipating. Test subjects who survive the effects of SCP-1916 show no indications of long-term illness. Additional effects have been associated with particular candies; refer to Experiment Log 1916 for details.
At present, the Foundation is in possession of 738 unique instances of SCP-1916, each identical in packaging and composition. Each instance of SCP-1916 is individually wrapped and contained in a cardboard box measuring approximately 20 cm x 30 cm x 6 cm, with the individual candies held in a plastic tray within the box. The front face of the box features a stylized image of a child wearing a transparent glass helmet over his head and riding on the back of a Saturn rocket in outer space, emblazoned with the product name "DR. WONDERTAINMENT'S ZERO-GEE-WHIZ! MOON ROCKS™". The following text is printed on the rear side of SCP-1916's packaging;

HEY THERE, SPACE CADETS!
Can't wait until you're old enough to go to outer space for real? Dr. Wondertainment is here for you! Dr. Wondertainment's Zero-Gee-Whiz! Moon Rocks™ are guaranteed to give you the closest thing to being a real live astronaut! Enjoy hours of high-tech high-jinks as you explore the gardens of Venus and sail the seas of the Moon, all in your own back yard!
Each package of Dr. Wondertainment's Zero-Gee-Whiz! Moon Rocks™ contains six different flavors for a real out-of-this-world experience:
MARTIAN CHERRY: Explore the canals of the Red Planet in style!
VENUSIAN BERRY: Dip beneath the clouds of our closest neighbor! Be careful - the air down there is thicker than water!
LUNAR LIME: Is the Moon really made of green cheese? You'll find out when you're only one-sixth your regular weight!
JOVIAN JELLY: Take a swim in the Great Red Spot on the biggest planet of them all!
OUTER SPACE STRAWBERRY: Find out what it's really like in outer space - the Zero-Gee-Whiz way!
PLANET X: What's it like on the undiscovered planets? You'll have to try it to find out!
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Experiment Log 1916:
Experiment 1916-1-1
Subject: D-85021, weighing 76.2 kg
Object tested: SCP-1916-1
Result: Subject's weight reduced to 28.6 kg.
Experiment 1916-2-1
Subject: D-96234, weighing 48 kg
Object tested: SCP-1916-2
Result: Subject's weight reduced to 43.2 kg. Following dissipation of effect, subject experienced symptoms of severe decompression sickness and died 6 hours after consumption from causes resembling high altitude cerebral edema.
Experiment 1916-3-1
Subject: D-23341, weighing 104.3 kg
Object tested: SCP-1916-3
Result: Subject's weight reduced to 16.6 kg. During an outdoors test of ability to lift heavy objects, subject made a running jump and reached escape velocity. Subject was not recovered and is presumed dead.
Experiment 1916-4-1
Subject: D-105421, weighing 117.9 kg
Object tested: SCP-1916-4
Result: Subject's weight increased to 298 kg. Subject complained of intense pain and suffered multiple arm and leg fractures while attempting to move.
Experiment 1916-5-1
Subject: D-23094, weighing 61.2 kg
Object tested: SCP-1916-5
Result: Subject's weight reduced to 0 kg. Subject displayed an ability to move freely through the air by pushing against surfaces and displayed no indications of being affected by atmospheric friction.
Experiment 1916-6-1
Subject: D-68052, weighing 43.1 kg
Object tested: SCP-1916-6
Result: [DATA EXPUNGED]. 82 fatalities at test facility due to exposure to gamma radiation; 438 non-lethal instances of radiation poisoning. Remains of subject have not been located.

« SCP-1915 | SCP-1916 | SCP-1917 »


Item №: SCP-1917
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1917 is located within Area-1917-1, where it was initially discovered. There has yet been no cause to remove it, and the risk of disturbing its current self-containing behavior has been deemed sufficient reason to allow it to remain. Site-127 has been established to facilitate containment of both SCP-1917 and other nearby anomalies, and is located at ground level above the Area.
As SCP-1917 is capable of providing all components necessary to its survival and has resisted all efforts to modify its routine, it requires no human interaction to contain. Instead, the containment team is to attempt to research the history of GoI-004F, establish neutral or positive relations with other former members of the group, and prevent public awareness of the religion as a whole (see CotBG Suppression Protocol Alfa-Hotel-RATCHET for more details).
Description: SCP-1917 is a sapient biomechanical humanoid of abnormal strength and size. It stands 3.5 metres tall, can lift weights upwards of 1,500 kg, and has demonstrated sufficient knowledge to repair, maintain, and make minor improvements to its own structure. The entity possesses (among other augmentations) two additional arms extending from the shoulderblades, continuous track mechanisms in place of the feet and lower legs, and interlocking metal plates replacing all skin below the neck. SCP-1917 is fully powered via a (presumably anomalous) miniature steam engine housed in the chest area, needing abnormally small quantities of fuel to continue functioning. The entity does not require any sustenance beyond fuel and a small quantity of water, and controlled tests have shown it to be capable of surviving in highly toxic, low-oxygen environments.
SCP-1917 resides within a subterranean complex on the outskirts of Manchester, England, designated Area 1917-1. The structure consists of three main sections, listed as follows:

Eight sets of living quarters, including a bedroom, washroom, and walk-in storage area. SCP-1917 spends the majority of its time within one of these, and the other seven appear to have been left abandoned for many years.
Two workshops containing machining equipment, welding tools, and large reserves of both coal1 and iron. At the point of discovery, both rooms were filled with a variety of mechanical components, miscellaneous devices, and artificial body parts in various stages of completion.
A large chapel, with an immense stained-glass window lit from behind2. The stone floor of the area has been worn in places by SCP-1917's passage, but the areas outside of the pulpit and centre aisle are largely untouched.

Extensive interviews have revealed that SCP-1917 purports to be a member of GoI-004F ("The New Ferrous Brotherhood") — an archaic branch of the Church of the Broken God founded during Britain's industrial revolution3. The entity claims it possesses the title of Bishop, and when prompted recited from memory several sacred texts and mantras. As GoI-004F was officially dissolved in 1890 following a coup by the Cogwork Orthodoxy, SCP-1917's claims cannot be verified.
Addendum — Behavioural Analysis: When left to its own devices SCP-1917 will follow a uniform routine, performing ablutions and self-maintenance, delivering a long sermon in the chapel, and returning to its quarters, where it undergoes a brief period of unresponsiveness and near-immobility (termed a Delta state, see below). This cycle repeats approximately every six hours, with occasional minor deviations brought on by external influences (most frequently changes in temperature, weather, human interaction or seismic activity).
Research has shown that, despite appearances of contentedness and satisfaction, SCP-1917 does not display full knowledge of its current situation. It possesses little or no memory of daily events, and has yet to consistently recognise a Foundation researcher, even those who perform weekly check-ups. Questioning has revealed it still believes it to be 1872, and despite being fully in control of its mental faculties, it refuses to acknowledge that its sermons are delivered to an empty room, even when shown direct evidence of this fact. It is currently believed that the aforementioned Delta states are either the cause or effect of this memory lapse, as all attempts to convince SCP-1917 of its cyclical nature have resulted in the state occurring prematurely4.
Notably, researchers examining the entity have found that the natures and durations of Delta states conform to only a small number of variations, suggesting an element of design rather than simple mechanical failure. The reason for this is unknown.
Addendum — Interview 1917-05:

Interviewer: Agent Four-B-Mortise, a defector from the Church of the Broken God under Foundation employ. Selected here due to their largely mechanical composition and unique position to sympathise with SCP-1917.
Interviewed: SCP-1917
Foreword: The following interview was conducted informally within Area-1917-1, in order to ascertain SCP-1917's reaction to another semi-mechanical humanoid. Video footage is available from the Site-127 archives.

<Begin Log>
Agent Mortise: Hello, Father.Agent Mortise: Oh, aye. That's me. The cleaner. Here to clean.Agent Mortise: You're going somewhere?[SCP-1917 pauses and leans in closer]Agent Mortise: My lips, if I had 'em, would be sealed.Agent Mortise: Pretty unusual, for a bishop.[SCP-1917 taps the side of its head]Agent Mortise: [Nodding] I get what you mean, yeah. Back when I was… uh, part of the church, I guess, I used to love the upgrades. Best part of the whole deal, I reckon. But being a robot gets dull after a while.Agent Mortise: More a follower, but yeah. Little place not far from here. To be honest, I mainly joined 'cause I thought it looked fun.[SCP-1917 sighs, releasing a small cloud of steam][Several audible clicks are heard emanating from SCP-1917's head in rapid succession, accompanied by the sound of screeching metal, and it ceases motion for 63 seconds. It does not react to this afterwards, and is presumably unaware that time has passed]Agent Mortise: I… I think I do, yeah.
[SCP-1917 smiles]<End Log>

Following this, SCP-1917 returned to the chapel and proceeded to deliver a seventy-minute sermon before retreating to its quarters. Similar interviews have yielded near-identical results, and no changes to the entity's routine have yet been observed.

Footnotes
1. Used as fuel by SCP-1917. The quantity available (and the fact that SCP-1917's power source is anomalously efficient) mean that supplies are expected to last upwards of several thousand years.
2. The source of this light is unknown, but suspected to be some manner of self-replenishing furnace. It has been tentatively designated Anomalous Object AO-006898.
3. GoI-004F's doctrines are focused on personal improvement rather than the more collectivist ideals preached by other sects, believing ascension to 'machines of great power' should occur prior to any attempts to reassemble their deity (with their current forms being ill-equipped to do so).
4. This effect also occurs on the rare occasions that SCP-1917 attempts to alter its own brain structure, preventing any modifications from being made.

« SCP-1916 | SCP-1917 | SCP-1918 »


Item #: SCP-1918
Object Class: Euclid

Image No #: 1918-A

Entity interaction with D-2934..

Image captured 08/31/10

Special Containment Procedures: Entrances to SCP-1918-2 have been secured and monitored with constant video surveillance as of 03/05/██. The sewage facility containing 3 entrances has been quarantined by Foundation personnel and the entrances themselves have been sealed. Workers previously employed at the facility have been issued amnestics and replaced with Foundation personnel. All other entrances have been permanently sealed with cement.
SCP-1918-2 is visible via seismic imaging, though the location may not be physically breached as per agreed upon Foundation escalation prevention protocols.
Description: SCP-1918 is an object of unknown composition located in SCP-1918-2. It appears to be a plastic mold attached to a metallic rod, and is usually found moving between hallways in 1918-2. SCP-1918 moves on its own volition, although it does not appear to separate from the ground at any time. The object leans in the direction it travels in, and moves at a set speed of 5 kph. The object applies moderate force to the surfaces it moves across, leaving a faint trail. SCP-1918 at times communicates using these carvings.
SCP-1918-2 is the designation for the area containing SCP-1918. The area is located in a cavity 20 meters beneath █████, Maine. SCP-1918-2 is similar in appearance to electrical substations located in the region. There are 18 identical rooms in SCP-1918-2, or 9 compound rooms. Rooms are differentiated between a '1' room and a '2' room by crude carvings on the floors outside of the individual rooms. SCP-1918-2 is symmetrical, with .5 meter wide paths circling each compound room. The only deviations to this construction are the location of entrances on the sides of each individual room, which vary randomly while the facility is active. A visual representation of SCP-1918-2 is available as Image No #: 1918-B.
Access to SCP-1918-2 is non-euclidean; entrances to this location tend to be kilometres apart from one another. There are currently 9 known entrances, including 5 sewage grates, 3 utility shafts located in a sewage facility, and 1 toilet. Exit from the facility is not believed to be possible, although evidence in Testing Log 1918.14 suggests this possibility.
Hallways in the facility are completely devoid of light. Any light produced is absorbed via an unknown mechanism; due to this, exploration must be performed via memorization of the facility interior and touch. Sound behaves abnormally within SCP-1918-2 while an event is active; an audible echo can be heard five (5) seconds after a sound (inaudible) is actually produced.
The floors of rooms in SCP-1918-2 contain residues which are believed to originate from bodily fluids of individuals trapped in the area.

Image No #: 1918-B

Visual representation depicting the layout of the facility, 1918-2.

Image created 06/08/11

It is not currently known whether or not SCP-1918 and SCP-1918-2 are separate or identical manifestations as attempts to remove SCP-1918 from SCP-1918-2 have been largely unsuccessful.

When a human or canine subject enters the central room it will become illuminated, and SCP-1918-2 will manifest. SCP-1918 will enter the room and move across the floor, leaving in its trail a message either reading "Tik Tak Tow" or "Memoree", maintaining a consistent speed and leaving immediately after the message has been inscribed. If the subject attempts to exit the room before this, the room will return to its dormant state, with the subject and any of its possessions disappearing immediately.

"Tik Tak Tow" | The object moves to each “1” room, leaving behind "X" markings on the floors if the room is not already marked with an "O" in a manner similar to a game of "Tic Tac Toe". How a subject is meant to accomplish making a mark or understand this process is unknown, as no aides are given.
"Memoree" | Upon exiting the room the subject is rendered unconscious by blunt force, presumably from SCP-1918. The subject regains consciousness in a random section of the facility. Success is marked by finding a “1” room identical to the central room. This event seems to possess a time limit, as the subject is pursued by SCP-1918 throughout the halls of the facility. The subject "wins" by marking the correct room with an "O".

Image No #: 1918-C

Computer generated image depicting a hallway structure in SCP-1918-2.

Image created 01/03/09

Entering a “2” room causes SCP-1918-2 to enter a dormant state, and what is assumed to be the death of the subject participating.
If the subject is successful, SCP-1918 will present itself in the room that the subject is currently in. SCP-1918 will then inscribe "new game" on the floor and repeat the process with a new event. If the subject is unsuccessful, SCP-1918-2 will simply revert to its dormant state with the subject participating in the previous event disappearing.
History: SCP-1918-2 came to the attention of the Foundation after the disappearance of four utility workers in █████, a small town (pop. 226) in Maine. Numerous reports were filed to the local sheriff's department of a “metallic scraping” beneath the ground, most commonly audible near sewage grates.
Addendum A: Recordings from testing event coordinated on 08/31/10.

Testing Log 1918.14

Close

D-Class subject is equipped with an earpiece, headlamp, and a chest mounted camera with a live feed to Researchers. Subject is then instructed to enter entrance 2.

D-2934: Okay, so where's this tunnel taking me?
Researcher Sanders: You have been briefed. Continue.
D-2934: Okay, so when I get there I do this game and I leave? Why can't I do that other thing you guys sent up Paul to do earlier?
Researcher Sanders: You have been selected for your expert knowledge of the subject. Where are you located currently?
D-2934: Tunnel stopped, I mean the concrete part. It's a big ole' cave, uh, I can see a hole on the end.
Researcher Sanders: Enter the hole.
D-2934: You sure about that? Shouldn't y'all be sending in robots or something?
Researcher Sanders: Would you like to terminate testing, D-2934?
D-2934: Oh yeah, alright, nah that's alright, yeah I'm headed in. Hell, this is kind of exciting I guess.
Audio and video feed useless as expected during travel in halls. D-2934 moves through darkness before the room is illuminated, and SCP-1918 becomes visible in what is assumed to be the central room.
D-2934: Hey who turned on the lights? Hot damn, what the hell is that thing!? Hey there, hey you guys see this? Hear me? Is that the thing?
D-2934: It's… oh well ya'll are seein' this right? What's, oh, Tic Tac Toe, haha, what? – hey where's that thing going? I mean I know where it's goin' but-
Researcher Sanders: Please begin the protocol. You have been briefed. Please move quickly.
Video feed black. Scraping against metal can be heard.
Video and audio effective after four minutes.
D-2934: Hah! Beat ‘im to it! So I mark an “O” right? I'm on top left right now, felt the walls, remember it like my hand. Hah. Ya'll can hear me right? HEY, YOU GUYS THERE?
Researcher Sanders: Yes.
Subject produces marker and marks the floor. SCP-1918 appears in the doorway.
D-2934: Hey ya'll didn't tell me about this, what's it doin'?
SCP-1918 remains in the doorway.
Researcher Sanders: This behavior is currently undocumented. Your cooperation is appreciated.
D-2934: The hell does that mean?
SCP-1918 remains in the doorway for four more minutes.
D-2934: Hey, motherfucker, you gonna let me by?
SCP-1918 tilts slightly left and right.
D-2934: Sore fuckin' loser, it's just one “O” go mark off another one!
SCP-1918 leaves the doorway back into the halls.
Researcher Sanders: Please continue.
After a course of 20 minutes the event is completed, with D-2934 successful.
D-2934: Hot damn, that means I won. Sucker didn't even get one box!
Researcher Sanders: Please await the arrival of SCP-1918.
D-2934: The fuck you mean?
SCP-1918 enters the room, inscribing “cheat”, “new game”, and then “memoree” on the floor of the room.
D-2934: Okay. Okay. What the fuck-ever Pez Dispenser motherfucker.
D-2934 is incapacitated upon exiting the room. Video feed resumes four hours later, although scraping can be heard continually.

Earpiece and microphone appear to be damaged or lost as audio is no longer audible.
Video appears shaky as D-2934 enters a room, most likely due to severe head trauma.
D-2934 exits the room, moving quickly.
After 12 minutes D-2934 enters another room and appears to clap and rub his hands together.
D-2934 approaches the center of the room. D-2934 appears to make a questioning gesture.
D-2934 paces the room for 3 minutes.
D-2934 approaches a rusted pipe visible on one of the sides of the room.
D-2934 moves his wrist along the pipe, drawing blood, and leans against the wall holding said wrist for a short time.
D-2934 enters a crouching position at the center of the room and smears his wrist repeatedly in a circular pattern.
D-2934 returns to standing position, removes jumpsuit and wraps it around the wrist.
SCP-1918 appears in the doorway. D-2934 remains still.
SCP-1918 inscribes "cheat" and "new game" into the floor and moves to the doorway, then turns around and wobbles left and right slightly.
D-2934 grasps his right forearm with his left hand and extends his middle finger at SCP-1918.
SCP-1918 approaches D-2934.
D-2934 moves to the corner of the room quickly and produces a pipe. D-2934 rushes at SCP-1918 and begins beating it repeatedly in the 'head' with the end of the pipe.
The 'head' of SCP-1918 appears to crack and bleed in certain areas as D-2934 makes contact with the pipe. What appears to be grey matter can be seen falling out of the head of SCP-1918 before video feed ends.

Video feed resumes, although view is fixed continually at the ceiling of the room. (Five hours)
D-2934's head becomes visible, appearing to lean forward to look into the camera, before leaning backwards out of view.
Video feed ends two hours afterwards.

« SCP-1917 | SCP-1918 | SCP-1919 »


Item #: SCP-1919
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: A zone with radius of two (2) kilometers must be maintained surrounding SCP-1919; any roads or paths leading to the building are to be diverted or obstructed. The perimeter of this zone is to be guarded by a set of no fewer than twenty-five (25) forty (40) heavily armed and armored patrolmen. Those entering SCP-1919 shall not be given body armor or weaponry. Any presence within the perimeter that is not confirmed to be a member of an expedition team is to be terminated immediately.
The official report concerning Expedition 003 is to be accessed only by those currently researching SCP-1919 and those present for the incident itself. All copies of the report have been destroyed.
REVISED ██/██/████: As of Expedition 002, under no circumstances is anyone to be allowed entry into SCP-1919 until all identified manifestations of SCP-1919-1 pertinent to the previous entrant or entrants have been eliminated, or until such time has elapsed that all manifestations can be expected to have starved to death.
Description: SCP-1919 is an early 20th-century hotel and converted mansion located in ██████████, █████. As of Expedition 003, the building has sunk partially into the ground on the eastern side; it is still traversable, but additional safety precautions are necessary. From the outside, SCP-1919 looks much as it did when it was first built; on the inside, however, the building is massively decrepit and looks like it has been abandoned since its creation. Many floorboards and ceilings are rotten or absent entirely, and various forms of damage (e.g.: water damage, collapsed debris) cover much of the interior.
Entry of the hotel by a human results in the appearance of a number of humanoid beings throughout the building, resembling the subject and wearing and carrying anything the subject possesses with them on arrival. These creatures (collectively labeled SCP-1919-1) typically vary from the original in several physical aspects.
Observed variations between subjects and counterparts include the following:

Lack of body hair
Misshapen cranial structure
Patches of skin discoloration
Variance in limb/digit length
Disfigurement of the mouth
Sealed/missing eyelid(s)
Sealed nostrils
Perforations of various sizes in skin
Elongated/deformed jaw structure

SCP-1919-1 is responsible for the decrepit state of the building; individuals have been recorded upending furniture, tearing out floorboards, damaging pipes, and otherwise causing small-scale destruction. The fact that they are capable of this makes the reason why to date only three (3) have attempted to escape the building unclear.
All observed creatures labeled SCP-1919-1 have behaved in a similar manner. Individually, they act aggressively with or without provocation, attempting to damage objects and structures at random. They also demonstrate a marked increase in hostility once they locate the subject or subjects who enter SCP-1919 (see Expedition Logs 001, 002). This behavior, however, seems not to extend to each other; rather, they are predisposed to form large, coordinated groups upon encountering more of their kind. The largest observed group thus far contained ██ members and was responsible for incapacitating Task Force Tau-11 ("Youth Hostiles").
As a whole, SCP-1919-1 exhibits a swarm intelligence akin to that of an ant colony. It is yet unknown specifically how they communicate, but they have proven to be able to do so quickly and nonverbally. While unverified as of ██/██/████, all signs point to SCP-1919-1 possessing an organ system that allows it to send and receive signals via pheromones. The fact that killing or wounding one, even noiselessly and out of the presence of others, attracts all within an estimated 40-meter radius directly toward the one harmed corroborates this.
Addendum 1919-01
Expedition 003 saw SCP-1919-1 cause only one immediate fatality among TF Tau-11. The rest of the task force was disfigured in many of the same ways as their duplicates. Video footage suggests that this change in behavior was deliberate and not the result of successful self-defense. ███ █████████, ████ █████, ██████ █████, and ███████ ████ succumbed to their injuries within a week of leaving the building. Despite sustaining severe damage to the lower jaw, ████ █████ was reported by medical staff to have repeated the phrase "in the picture" intermittently before falling unconscious. █████ died en route to Foundation treatment facilities.
Addendum 1919-02
After analyzing footage from Expedition 003, it has come to the Foundation's attention that a being located inside the building is responsible for the creation of all observed instances of SCP-1919-1. The new primary objective of all efforts concerning the SCP is the identification, retrieval, and containment of said being. In confronting her, researchers are instructed to [DATA EXPUNGED].

Expedition Log 001 (video transcript)

hide transcript

D7: D-72274, Caucasian male, age 39
C1: Dr. Limkiewicz, communications relay, Site ██ (sound only)
T11: ████ █████, former head, TF Tau-11, "Youth Hostiles" (sound only)

C1: What are you doing? The front door not opening?
D7: It was either locked or stuck. Couldn't move it an inch. The windows I tried weren't working, either, and I don't want to break any of them before I even get inside.
C1: Try the side entrance. Or the back, if that doesn't work.
D7: All right.
(D-72274 spends the next three minutes walking around to the side of the house, scanning his surroundings with his flashlight. When he arrives at the main western entrance, he pulls the handle and the door opens.)
D7: Looks like we're in luck. Think the place is air conditioned?
(D-72274 closes the door to SCP-1919 behind him. As it clicks shut, the microphone either picks up or generates a high-pitched whistle that quickly fades.)
C1: Are you hearing that? What's that noise?
D7: What noise? All I'm hearing is my own footsteps in here.
T11: It's stopped. Disregard it and proceed.
D7: Not sure what I'm disregarding, but okay, I guess.
(The beam of the flashlight lands on an assortment of dismantled and dilapidated pieces of furniture before alighting on a tattered portrait of a young red-haired woman. Much of the canvas has been shredded, including the majority of the woman's face. The missing pieces are not seen.)
C1: Move in nearer to the painting, please. I want to see something.
(Shallow grooves are visible on the surface of the wall. They cover much of it, crossing each other in rows of three or four.)
D7: You seeing these scratches? They're all over the place in here. Floor, walls… parts of the ceiling.
C1: They almost look like—
D7: (whispering) SHIT. (He rounds a corner and audibly presses his back to the wall.)
T11: What's wrong?
(The flashlight is suddenly extinguished. D-72274's breathing can be heard to increase in speed.)
T11: What's happening? Why'd you turn your flashlight off?
D7: I don't think I'm alone in here.
T11: Why not? Did you see somebody?
D7: Something like that.
(He slowly leans the camera around the corner. At the end of the long hallway is a beam of light, bobbing erratically and switching on and off at odd intervals. There is a faint sound of labored breathing, not coming from D-72274.)
D7: What should I do? Who could that possibly be? You guys have armed guards outside, right? They couldn't have gotten in here within the past month—
C1: It is not recommended that you approach him. …It. Your current priority is now to evacuate the—
(The microphone can be heard being forced out of Dr. Limkiewicz's grasp.)
T11: Disregard previous instruction. If what you saw is a part of the SCP, which we can suspect it is, you are obligated to investigate it. Stay at a safe distance and get it on video.
C1: █████, you have no right—
T11: Proceed. It might just be some teenagers getting high or something, anyway.
(D-72274 stands up and looks into the other hallway again. The flashlight has disappeared, and the sound of breathing from seconds before has gone faint. The D-class takes a tentative step into the corridor.)
T11: We can't see anything.
(D-72274 makes no indication of having heard.)
T11: Please turn on your flashlight.
(There is no response.)
T11: D-72274, you are ordered to turn on your flashlight.
(The light immediately lands on bright orange fabric, causing the camera's contrast settings to obscure the video.)
D7: NO!
(D-72274 starts to run, switching his light off.)
C1: What was that? What did you see?
D7: I don't… I don't…
C1: Why are you running? What are you running from? Answer me!
D7: It was me, I don't… it was me!
T11: What? What do you mean?
(The D-class trips over something in the dark, falling forward and dropping the video camera so that it points down the hall toward his unseen follower. Footsteps approach him from behind. He turns himself over, scrambling away on his back while facing whatever is pursuing him.)
D7: NO! NO, NO, NO!
C1: What's going on? Stand up! Get out of there! Can you move?
(A beam of light illuminates D-72274 from the end of the hallway he has not reached. A second one follows it, and then a third; all three shake and flicker as more footfalls approach the camera. D-72274 begins screaming. As the lights pass over him, they land upon an orange jumpsuit and a malformed hand before a face comes into view. It vaguely resembles D-72274, but its eyelids look to be missing, and its lips are fused together and set at a bizarre angle.)
T11: Leave the camera running.
(Sounds of tearing begin from behind the camera. The screaming stops. After two hours and twenty-six minutes, the camera is picked up and moved to another room, where it is thrown onto the floor with force sufficient to break it.)

Expedition Log 002 (video transcript)

hide transcript

D3: D-38138, Caucasian male, age 27
D4: D-40076, Caucasian male, age 22
D9: D-90124, African-American male, age 36
C1: Dr. Limkiewicz, communications relay, Site ██ (sound only)

(Note: For this procedure, video cameras have been sewn into the clothing worn by all three D-class to leave their hands available.)
C1: Protocol requires me to remind you that if you try anything at all out of line with what the Foundation and its representatives request, that you are to be terminated immediately. But I'm sure you already knew that.
D9: Yeah, yeah.
C1: Don't take it so lightly. The people guarding this place have weapons much more powerful than the ones we've had to give you, and they won't hesitate to—
D9: Right. Look, nobody's doing anything… untoward. Okay? So would you mind not saying the same shit over and over for the rest of this trip?
C1: I don't take that kind of insolence from my own subordinates, 90124. Don't speak to me that way again.
D9: (laughter) I hear you, doc.
D3: How are we getting into this place? Can't remember.
C1: You'll be taking the western entrance. Our last man didn't get very far, so you'll more or less be picking up where he left off.
D4: No shit? Sounds great. Nice and safe.
D3: That's why we've got guns, dumbass.
C1: Oh, speaking of which, remember that you are permitted to fire your weapons only at anything inside the house that looks like the man whose picture you were shown before you left. He'll be dressed the same as you three, so be sure not to mistake him for one of you or vice versa.
D9: You phrased that differently before we left. What does that mean, "anything that looks like him"?
D3: So you're encouraging us to murder somebody.
C1: If it happens, it won't be murder.
D3: Interesting.
(Conversation pauses for fifteen seconds as the D-class approach the west entrance.)
D4: You want to kick the door in, or should I?
C1: Don't advertise your presence any more than you can help. Your priority here is helping us to gather intelligence, you're not an extermination squad.
D4: Fine. Can we go inside, at least? We're burning daylight. I don't want to be here when the sun sets.
C1: You may enter. Remain quiet.
(Western entrance opens. D-38138 steps into the doorway but quickly springs backward.)
D3: What the hell?
(A manifestation of SCP-1919-1, appearing as a misshapen version of D-72274, bursts through the doorway. Its right arm is approximately 1.4x its proportionate size, in addition to being visibly double-jointed. Manifestation lunges into the sunlight toward D-40076, who can be heard shouting until D-90124 fires his weapon once into the creature's head, killing it. D-38138 clutches his ears.)
D4: Christ! What the fuck was that? Did you know that was going to be in there?
C1: Yes. Be on the lookout for more of them inside.
D9: More? How many are there?
C1: Please enter the building.
D9: How many more of these motherfuckers are waiting for us?
C1: You have been ordered to enter the building. Failure to comply will result—
D9: Of course. Don't bother, doc. I hear you.
(D-90124 stops to stare at the dead manifestation, mumbling, as D-38138 reopens the western door. SCP 1919-1's jaw hangs several inches lower than that of an average human.)
D9: "Anything that looks like him." Jesus. Could have said something.
(D-40076 can be heard swearing audibly for the next several seconds as all three D-class enter SCP-1919. As the door closes, a high-frequency noise emanates from the microphones.)
D4: What's our plan? Are we supposed to split up?
D3: Yeah, let's split up. Great idea. Let's make ourselves as vulnerable as we can.
D4: Well, okay, dick. How about you think of something?
D3: Survival sound good?
C1: Stop talking. Did any of you hear a high-pitched sound just now?
D3: I hear one every time this little teenage asswipe opens his mouth.
D4: Fuck you.
C1: Never mind. Keep moving.
(All three camera feeds display parts of the hallway D-72274 investigated. The portrait from two days previous is now almost wholly missing, and pieces of the wall beside it are scattered across the floor.)
D9: What happened in here?
(D-90124 turns to face the corridor where D-72274 fell. The body is absent. Red streaks lead around a corner from where he collapsed into a darkened room.)
D3: Hey, ████, we're walking. I'm not gonna yell for you.
D9: I'm coming.
(D-class reach the end of the hallway. To the right is a door with the word "BALLROOM" embossed on a bronze plaque. They look at each other before pulling it open. Sunlight hardly reaches the room, illuminating only a small triangle in the doorway.)
C1: You have flashlights, right? We can't see a thing from here, turn them on.
(The room looks as though it has been recently gutted; most of the floor space is unoccupied, and it can be seen easily where pictures in large frames used to hang on the three walls that remain intact. The southern wall is full of massive holes. From the viewpoint afforded by the D-class, what the spaces in the far-off wall lead to cannot be seen.)
D3: It did not look this bad from outside.
C1: One or more of you, take a look at the south wall. Seems unusual.
D9: We'll go over in a minute. There's some shit over here, check it out.
D3: What have you found?
D9: Cameras. A ton of them.
(D-90124 points at seventeen video cameras, spread haphazardly across the torn-up hardwood in the southeastern corner of the chamber. D-40076 remains facing the south wall as movement within it becomes apparent.)
C1: (barely audible) Oh, no.
D3: Where do you think these came from? The ones without cracked screens look brand new.
C1: [static]—ot just the first D-class, you need to—[static]
D4: Jesus Christ!
D3: Keep quiet! What's wrong with you?
D4: The wall, the fucking wall!
(D-40076 turns and runs out of the ballroom. D-90124's camera and flashlight point at the southern wall. SCP-1919-1 begins to emerge heads-first from two of the gaps in it. The first manifestation on the left looks to be the first one that caught D-72274, but the leading one on the right, aside from a sizable dent in the forehead, bears a close resemblance to D-90124. They land on their feet and begin to run with considerable speed toward the D-class.)
C1: Disregard previous instructions, leave the room immediately. Seek shelter. Go!
(D-90124 stands motionless. D-38138 fires his weapon into the chests of the two duplicates, expending four rounds total. A brief, metallic rattle comes from the floor beside where the false D-class lands face-down.)
D3: Fucking move!
(D-38138 grabs D-90124 by the upper arm and pulls him toward the door. As he turns, D-90124's camera captures movement visible in fourteen of the holes in the wall.)
C1: (on separate radio) ██████, this is Limkiewicz, Site ██, password [REDACTED]. Requesting immediate full perimeter lockdown.
(D-40076 can be seen retracing his path to the western entrance. Blocking the door to the outside is a crowd of doppelgangers of himself and the other D-class. One in the shape of D-90124 raises his arm, displaying a pistol identical to the ones provided by the Foundation. D-40076 faces the other direction and starts to run back down the corridor. A series of gunshots is heard; after the third, D-40076 spins and collapses. Camera focuses solely on western doorway until battery drains.)
D3: There've got to be some stairs in here. The building's got at least three floors, I could see before we came in. Where the fuck are—oh!
(D-38138 and D-90124 sprint up a crumbled flight of steps to the second floor and are met with a large contingent of SCP-1919-1. D-90124 begins to reach for his weapon but instead follows D-38138 up the remaining stairs to the third story. As they reach the top floor, the microphones begin to whine the same way that they did when the western door closed.)
C1: (to staff) Turn the volume down, I can't hear myself think. (to D-class) Can the two of you really not hear that? Are the microphones the only things picking it up?
D9: I don't have a goddamn clue what you're talking about, doctor.
C1: It sounds like feedback, almost, or a dentist's drill. It's deafening on this end.
D3: Not right now, don't bother me with that. There's something weird up here.
D9: You feel that, too?
C1: What is it?
D9: Strange feeling. Kind of… We should get out of here.
D3: Probably.
(Both subjects move deeper into the darkness of the hallway, their flashlights out of camera view.)
C1: It's getting louder and louder—where are you going? Turn on a light, one of you.
D3: Hush.
C1: Answer the question! You are being given a direct order!
D3: Keep quiet.
C1: What?
D3: Keep quiet.
D9: She can hear you.
(D-38138 and D-90124 do not acknowledge any further communication. Their cameras pick up a faint white glow from beneath one of the closed doors in the corridor toward which the two are moving.)
C1: 90124, respond! 38138?
(The door opens, and the light on the other side becomes visibly brighter. The two cameras pick up several frames of a female human silhouette moving quickly in their direction before cutting to static for the remainder of battery life. Concurrently, the camera attached to D-40076 picks up an unusual sound in addition to the pitch noted by Dr. Limkiewicz [headphones recommended]. Still frames from cameras D-90124 and D-38138 pending declassification.)

Expedition Log 003 (video transcript)

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« SCP-1918 | SCP-1919 | SCP-1920 »


SCP-1920.

Item #: SCP-1920
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: All instances of SCP-1920 are to be kept in a Safe-Class Kou-Electrical chamber, for the purposes of sufficiently providing power to SCP-1920. A constant source of wind is to be provided for each instance, using a standard electrical fan. Any vocalizations emitted by any instance of SCP-1920 are to be logged for review. One D-Class personnel is to be used during testing of SCP-1920. All testing must be approved by no fewer than two Level 4 personnel.
See Document 1920-C9 for original containment procedures. For more information regarding changes, see Addendum 1920-A.
Description: SCP-1920 is a crudely made wooden wind turbine, 55 cm in height. Its blades consist of a single piece of a complex polymer, which is held up by a wooden chopstick and several rubber bands. SCP-1920's exterior is covered in unremarkable black paint, though traces of charcoal and clay are detectable. A wire extending from below a hole in the base of SCP-1920 extends for 90 cm before connecting to what appears to be a miniature satellite dish, which as of now has displayed no anomalous properties nor the ability to function. All other parts of SCP-1920 display normal durability and decay, and must be handled with care.
When SCP-1920's blades are spun1, an electrical current will travel through the wire extending from SCP-1920 at seemingly random intervals. SCP-1920's methods of generating electricity are currently unknown, as it has no similarity to any known generator design. The rotational speed of its blades does not correlate with its level of output, only whether or not it will produce electricity. Regardless of the amount of electricity produced, it appears that all electrical activity is dissipated upon reaching the satellite disc.
Once 1 kWh of energy has been produced, SCP-1920 will begin to spin at a constant speed of 1200 r/min for approximately 20 seconds and eject confetti from the center of its blades via unknown means. Noisemakers can also be heard emitting from SCP-1920, as well as several instances of a male voice speaking in English. The following is a collection of various statements by SCP-1920:

"Thank you once again, creatures!"
"One step closer to a brighter future!"
"Positively splendid!"
"Keep up the good work!"
"Do you think they can understand what we say?"

SCP-1920 was recovered from P███ L██████, Hawaii, and was found on the edge of a nearby cliff. A bronze plaque was found upright next to SCP-1920, bearing the following text:

Light Courier Enterprises: Mk.VI "Turbine of the Future!"

Warning: this is an advanced generator and as such it requires expert operation and maintenance. The Mk.VI Turbine is partially unstable and vulnerable to malfunction. Please observe operational guidelines as outlined below for proper usage:
1. Place Mk.VI Turbine in a windy area / Place Mk.VI Turbine and provide breath-powered air displacement.
2. Avoid contact with Mk.VI Turbine to prevent any further damage most likely done to it during step 1.
3. Do not attempt to eat, mate, or engage in combat with Mk.VI Turbine. Just leave it alone.
Light Courier Enterprises thanks you for your assistance in powering our planet. We will reward your efforts after our recovery.

Addendum 1920-A: Dr. Cage was able to reroute the electricity generated by SCP-1920. Two days later, SCP-1920 emitted various sounds, including murmuring and arguing between unknown individuals, rustling and clattering of equipment, and a single coherent statement from an unknown male:

"Hey hey, SHOO! Go away! Dammit, did some little monsters somehow break this thing already? Why is it— Why aren't we getting any power? Hello, hello? Do you speak words?"
[incoherent mumbling]
"Forget this, I don't think they can understand what I'm saying. It's been powering our measly generator for weeks anyway, we've got power to spare. Until then, now we're going to have to reroute it to the empty one before they come—"
[voice becomes distant and undecipherable]

On ██/██/19██, agents responded to reports of three small turbines identical in appearance to SCP-1920 from New Zealand, China, and Germany. Each of these newly discovered instances had a piece of paper attached to its shaft, featuring a poorly drawn depiction of what is assumed to be a monster with horns, sharp teeth and green skin. In each case, the text "GO AWAY!" had been written underneath each drawing.
We can't risk anymore of these appearing in public. We don't know what the things that are sending this are capable of, and we certainly don't know if they can send things other than these turbines. - Dr. Cage
As of ██/██/19██, SCP-1920 is to be kept actively generating electricity; see Revised Containment Procedures. For original documentation regarding Group of Interest "Light Courier Enterprises", please refer to SCP-2395. See SCP-1740, SCP-2940, and SCP-1940 for further information.

Footnotes
1. Mechanical and manual manipulation of the blades does not cause electricity to flow from SCP-1920.

« SCP-1919 | SCP-1920 | SCP-1921 »


PeppersGhost

SCP-1921 - Black Cotton Candy by PeppersGhost

More by this author

Item #: SCP-1921
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1921 is to be kept in a secured storage vault in Wing-6D of Storage Site-49. Copies of SCP-1921-B2 should remain locked in a climate-controlled storage locker in Wing-4B of the same facility. SCP-1921-B2 is not to be allowed in the vicinity of SCP-1921 without written permission from the present head researcher.
Description: SCP-1921 is a mobile kiosk designed for the production and sale of cotton candy. The exterior is decorated with painted panels of intricately carved wood, including an arched sign bearing the words "Cotton Candy — Free With Admission". Traces of fire and smoke damage are visible on the kiosk's exterior. SCP-1921 has five primary components that display anomalous properties when used in conjunction with each other.

SCP-1921-A1 is a non-anomalous sugar spinning device located at the front of the kiosk. It is identical to commercially available machines of the same nature, with the exception of a small pump connected to a reservoir at the bottom of the kiosk. A label located at the bottom of the machine gives the nonexistent company "Sugarcomb Confections" as the name of the manufacturer.

SCP-1921-A2 is any cotton candy produced from SCP-1921-A1 when SCP-1921-A3 is present inside the machine's reservoir. SCP-1921-A2 is consistently black in color, even when food dyes are added to the sugar. When SCP-1921-A2 comes in contact with human saliva, it contracts and shrinks in size until it is undetectable to the person who consumed it. Once inside a subject's digestive system, SCP-1921-A2 will expand to 3 times its original size, filling much of the subject's digestive tract. It will then start integrating itself into the subject's central nervous system, primarily accumulating in and around the subject's brain. This process typically goes unnoticed by affected subjects, though several individuals have stated that they felt a slight tickling sensation.

SCP-1921-A3 is a black, highly viscous liquid of unknown composition. It was originally discovered underneath SCP-1921-A1 in a small tank labeled "Clown Milk". When a subject consumes SCP-1921-A3 in its pure form, the subject's serotonin1 levels will immediately increase to the point of cardiac arrest, invariably resulting in death.

SCP-1921-B1 is a pneumatic, self-playing 32 key calliope located at the back of SCP-1921. Music produced by the instrument is not exceptionally loud; however, witnesses have reported being able to hear SCP-1921-B1's music up to 1.2km away. The object displays no additional anomalous effects unless it is turned on while an instance of SCP-1921-B2 is present in its inner compartment.

SCP-1921-B2 is a collection of 11 rolls of perforated paper. When a roll is inserted into SCP-1921-B1, the arrangement of the holes in the paper will allow the instrument to play a song. Each instance of SCP-1921-B2 has a different song assigned to it, the name of which is printed at the top of the roll. Many of the rolls bear handwritten notes beneath the title of the song.

Whenever a roll of SCP-1921-B2 is played using SCP-1921-B1 while within roughly 1.2km of a subject who has consumed SCP-1921-A2, the subject's cognitive abilities will be anomalously altered. The exact nature of the effect depends on the roll of music being played (see Addendum SCP-1921-B2).
SCP-1921 was discovered in a fairground in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, along with a number of non-anomalous artifacts that bore similar fire damage. Among the other recovered items were several painted signs advertising "Herman Fuller's Circus of the Disquieting". Foundation forensics teams have theorized that a large group of people left the site in a hurry and attempted to burn everything they had to leave. The team also determined that the fire had been started less than 4 hours before the arrival of Foundation personnel. 6 bodies severely damaged by the fire were found stacked in a partially destroyed circus tent. Investigations are ongoing.
Addendum SCP-1921-B2: The following is a list of known instances of SCP-1921-B2, presented with the title of the song played, the song's effect on subjects who have consumed SCP-1921-A2, and the note written on the instance.

Number
Song Played
Effect
Note

B2-01
The Skater's Waltz
Subjects will not consider anomalous phenomena to be out of the ordinary.
"Main"

B2-02
When You're Smiling
Subjects experience increased levels of serotonin and dopamine. When interviewed, affected subjects have displayed an inability to concentrate on topics that they find unpleasant.
(None; a crude drawing of a smiling face is present in place of text.)

B2-03
Officer of the Year
Subjects are unable to perceive the actions of others as unlawful.
"For coppers"

B2-04
Doodle Dee Doo
Subjects' ability to feel a sense of personal endangerment is suppressed.
"In case anyone catches on"

B2-05
Walkin' Happy
A state of extreme euphoria is induced for the duration of the song, often incapacitating affected subjects.
"NOT for personal use"

B2-06
Hail! Hail! The Gang's All Here
All affected subjects within SCP-1921-B1's range of effect will congregate. Testing has shown that such subjects prefer to gather at the brightest visible light source. When questioned, subjects will adamantly maintain that they gathered of their own volition, but will often be unable to provide a reason for this behavior.
"Before showtime"

B2-07
American Patrol
Subjects will seek out individuals who have not consumed SCP-1921-A2 and attempt to persuade them to do so. If the individual repeatedly refuses, subjects may resort to acts of violence and force-feeding.
"Emergencies ONLY"

B2-08
For All and Forever
Subjects are afflicted with an accelerated form of serotonin syndrome, causing them to experience seizures, hallucinations, severe nausea, diarrhea, vomiting, and fevers averaging 42 °C. Subjects show an increasingly lighthearted demeanor as their condition worsens before expiring of cardiac arrest three minutes after onset of symptoms.
"LAST RESORT"

B2-09
Comrades of the Legion
Unknown; roll has been forcibly ripped apart.
(None)

B2-10
What D'Ya Mean You Lost Your Dog?
No observable effect.
"Prepare all clowns for milking"

B2-11
Upside-Down Cake
Unknown; roll has been forcibly ripped apart and significant portions are missing.
"Play when the time is right. Thank you for your cooperation."

Addendum: On 08/28/2012, O5 command approved a request from Dr. Lindquist to restore SCP-1921-B2-09 ("Comrades of the Legion") to functional condition. Since the initial restoration, tests with D-Class personnel have not revealed any anomalous properties, with the exception of Experiment SCP-1921-B2-09-14. A transcription of research footage recorded of the event is available below.

<Begin Video Log>
[0:05] : Dr. Lindquist begins briefing D-5271 on the testing procedure.
[2:23] : D-5271 consumes SCP-1921-A2.
[5:30] : Dr. Lindquist activates SCP-1921-B1, which then begins playing SCP-1921-B2-09.
[6:12] : No noticeable changes in D-5271's demeanor are observed.
[7:03] : All keys on SCP-1921-B1 are suddenly depressed at once. Following this, SCP-1921-B1 switches from playing Comrades of the Legion to a downtempo arrangement of Entrance of the Gladiators. Dr. Lindquist makes an exclamation of surprise, as previous tests involving SCP-1921-B2-09 only showed Comrades playing in its entirety. It should be noted that the mechanism responsible for rotating SCP-1921-B1's perforated music roll was not in operation for the duration of the new song.
[7:24] : D-5271 states that the music is giving him a headache.
[8:31] : D-5271 is recorded saying, "oh my god, I love clowns."
[8:40] : D-5271 apparently suffers a seizure and falls onto the floor.
[10:36] : Entrance of the Gladiators ends. D-5271 stops seizing and loses consciousness at the conclusion of the song. SCP-1921-B1's roll begins turning once more and Comrades of the Legion resumes playing at the point it was interrupted.
[11:32] : Comrades of the Legion ends. No further anomalous activity observed.
<End Video Log>

Note: D-5271 remained comatose for 18 hours following the experiment. Upon waking, D-5721 claimed that he could not remember who he was and complained of severe discomfort in his chest and abdomen. After additional testing and observation during a 30 day period, it was determined that D-5721 did not display any atypical properties or behavioral patterns apart from those previously mentioned. A post-termination autopsy of D-5721 revealed that SCP-1921-A2 had integrated itself into the majority of D-5721's intestinal tract and muscle tissue, and a small balloon filled with glitter was found inside D-5271's chest cavity. A scrap of paper, folded in half four times, was encased in the glitter (See Document Log). Researchers have been unable to replicate the results of Experiment SCP-1921-B2-09-14 in subsequent tests.
Document Log: The following is a transcription of the handwritten message on the card found inside D-5721:

Front

Okay, something definitely went screwy. What's the deal? We could have used this one!!! That contraption busted again?!

Reverse

P.S. We're getting hungry here, Charley.

Footnotes
1. Serotonin is a monoamine neurotransmitter believed to be linked with feelings of happiness.

« SCP-1920 | SCP-1921 | SCP-1922 »


Item# SCP-1922
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1922 is housed in a standard human containment cell on Site-17. The subject is to remain under monitoring by security personnel. Self-harmful behavior or changes in the subject's health are to be reported to Doctors Dharow and/or Ipps-Hill. Psychiatric evaluations with interviews are administered by Dr. Dharow and health inspections by Dr. Ipps-Hill. Said procedures are performed on a monthly basis and after the occurrence of anomalous activity. SCP-1922 is not allowed to possess items of combustible nature and is to be supervised to prevent contact with such when outside the cell.
Description: SCP-1922 is a ninety-year-old Caucasian male named Herbert ████. SCP-1922 is diagnosed with Diabetes mellitus type 2 and peripheral vascular disease. Subject's medical condition with the effect of the anomaly have caused several episodes of gangrene in the lower limbs, which have led to amputations. For a full list of medical details on SCP-1922, please see Document 1922-Med.
SCP-1922 behaves as a normal elderly human until expiring from a natural cause, myocardial infarction being the most common probable cause of death. SCP-1922 remains in a state of clinical death for approximately 45 minutes, after which it slowly reanimates. Full recovery may take up to 2 hours. After reanimation the subject is slightly disoriented, but the periods of clinical death have not been shown to cause any neurological damage. IQ testing has proven no deterioration and SCP-1922 appears mentally healthy and intelligent. Compared to subject's advanced age, the level of intellect is well maintained. The subject describes experiences in elaborate detail, supposedly taking place during the anomalous activity. Currently no evidence exists nor may be provided to support the subject's claims. Whether the anomaly induces vivid hallucinations or SCP-1922 deliberately produces misinformation is unknown. For more details, please see Document 1922-Psy and the Interview Log.
Note: 2005-07-03: It has been recorded that the time SCP-1922 remains clinically deceased extends after each subsequent expiry. The reanimation process, nevertheless, takes subsequently less time.
Note: 2008-05-05: SCP-1922 has started to show suicidal tendencies.
Recovery: SCP-1922 was recovered from █████ Hospital in █████, ███████ on 1997-06-06. Specialized doctors were alerted when a man had regained consciousness in the hospital morgue, almost an hour after having been declared deceased. The subject was taken into custody of the Foundation and the subject's family was later provided with substitute ashes. Class-C Amnestics administered to hospital staff in charge of the subject. SCP-1922 was led to believe he was being moved to different hospital with better faculties.
Addendum-1922-1: Partial Interview Log:

Interview 1922-001 1997-06-07

Close document

Initial interview conducted after containment.

<Begin Log>
Dr. Dharow: Alright, Herbert? Feeling better?Dr. Dharow: Uh, well… Herbert…Dr. Dharow: I really wouldn't know.Dr. Dharow: How does it happen, then? Cheating death.Dr. Dharow: Can you tell me what does happen? Can you describe it to me?<End Log>

The subject refused to continue with the interview unless promised the family would not be contacted.

Interview 1922-016 1999-03-09

Close document

Interview conducted shortly after SCP-1922 had recovered from the reanimation stage and following surgery. The subject's recollection of experiences regarding the anomaly appear to improve after each occurrence.

<Begin Log>
Dr. Dharow: I'm sorry about your foot, Herbert.Dr. Dharow: What can you tell me about your experience this time?Dr. Dharow: Tell me.Dr. Dharow: Hell? Do you mean it's hell you think you go to?Dr. Dharow: What else?<End Log>

The subject appears to reflect feelings of impending death and surgery in dreams during clinical death periods.

Interview 1922-038 2003-11-20

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Interview conducted shortly after SCP-1922 had recovered from the reanimation stage and following surgery.

<Begin Log>Dr. Dharow: We don't know, Herbert. We don't know. I wish you would help us.Dr. Dharow: We're trying, Herbert.Dr. Wilds: What?Dr. Dharow: We don't perform euthanasia here, Herbert.<End Log>

The subject refused to continue unless promised cremation during next clinical death. Subject's request not granted.

Interview 1922-093 2008-04-30

Close document

Interview conducted after SCP-1922 had recovered from the reanimation stage and following surgery. The subject reanimated crying. Amputation performed on the subject's right leg below the knee.

<Begin Log>Dr. Dharow: Of course not. Not with your condition and you know you're not allowed lighters. Now tell me…<End Log>

The subject started trying to harm itself and had to be sedated.

Interview 1922-130 2012-02-01

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Interview conducted after SCP-1922 had recovered from the reanimation stage and following surgery. The subject reanimated screaming. Amputation performed on both legs and three fingers on the subject's right hand.

<Begin Log>Dr. Dharow: Herbert…Dr. Dharow: Listen…<End Log>

The subject had to be sedated due to irate behavior.

Addendum 1922-3: Psychological Evaluation:

Document 1922-Psy

Close document

[Excerpt]
Even after years of interrogations [discontinued 1998-02-08] and ongoing interviews, SCP-1922 is reluctant to provide information on the means of acquired prolonged lifespan. SCP-1922 is considered to be completely aware of the process behind the reanimation, but refuses to cooperate. No crucial information has been obtained from the subject, and as medical examinations and testing have proved inconclusive, the means to the subject's ability to reanimate remains currently unknown. SCP-1922 has become increasingly suicidal and even less compliant, making the monthly interviews unavailing.
As medical examinations show [refer to Document 1922-Med], SCP-1922 in the state of clinical death shows no brain activity. However, after reanimation the subject has been able to describe experiences that have supposedly occurred during the period. It has not been determined if the subject is actually capable of such experiences or if the descriptions of such are merely intended to mislead the researchers. SCP-1922 claims that during death, it (or its consciousness) is transferred to an undisclosed locus. According to the subject this locus is occupied by what appear to be parts of the human body, mainly hair and limbs. SCP-1922 has also occasionally described skin, organs and teeth. The subject reports feelings of dread and nausea, and often refuses to discuss these visions. This behavior led to the dismissed theory that SCP-1922 is able to dream while being clinically deceased. The absence of any brain activity indicates otherwise. SCP-1922 believes its own body to be responsible for the transfer and the only way to "escape" this condition is to be cremated. Subject's concerns are to be disregarded.
[End Excerpt]

« SCP-1921 | SCP-1922 | SCP-1923 »


Photograph of asteroid ███ ██████, taken from nearby asteroid. 'Seeding' branch is selected. Taken 11/18/19██.

Item #: SCP-1923
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Due to the distance and gravitational forces separating SCP-1923 and Earth, containment is currently considered de facto. In addition to the stationary camera on ███ ████████, camera probes are to be launched from Luna-█ to observe SCP-1923 on a regular basis. All photographs of SCP-1923-Alpha by outside sources are to be doctored before public release. All signals or transmissions originating from SCP-1923-Alpha are to be recorded and analyzed.
In the event SCP-1923-Alpha (or any celestial body bearing SCP-1923) shows alteration of its orbit, the Foundation is to enact [DATA EXPUNGED] procedures.
Description: SCP-1923 are tree-like organisms found on the asteroid ███ ██████ (designated SCP-1923-Alpha), located in the Sol system's asteroid belt. Photographic evidence shows a thick green canopy, completely obscuring the surface of SCP-1923-Alpha. By comparing previously known dimensions of SCP-1923-Alpha to now, it is estimated that a singular SCP-1923 specimen is approximately 95m tall. Spectroscopic analysis of SCP-1923 reveals that the canopy has a reflective spectrum similar to that of terrestrial leaves, with minor-but-significant absorption differences.
Due to the inability to casually observe SCP-19231, a stationary camera has placed on a nearby asteroid of similar orbit, designated SCP-1923-Watcher. As of this date, the Foundation is not capable of providing high-quality photographs of either SCP-1923 or SCP-1923-Alpha. As such, all data concerning SCP-1923 is assumed to be as tenuous as the ability to view it.
At both ends of SCP-1923-Alpha, a single 'branch' of SCP-1923 extends an estimated 30m above the canopy. Similar to a terrestrial palm tree in appearance, these specimens2 of SCP-1923 are devoid of leaves, except on the top. These leaves undergo a cycle of growth, maturation, and shedding, the last of which is done en masse. The Foundation has hypothesized that this process is procreative in nature. As of ██/██/████, SCP-1923-Alpha remains the only known body with which SCP-1923 resides.
Addendum-1: On 01/06/20██, the asteroid ███ ██████ was reported to have a slightly reduced albedo and a slight orbital adjustment. Orbital projections show that said asteroid would have been 'behind' the asteroid bearing SCP-1923 during a 'shedding' cycle. There is reason to believe that ███ ██████ (designated SCP-1923-Beta) may now contain SCP-1923. Further study of both SCP-1923-Alpha and -Beta is required.
Addendum-2: On 01/10/20██, a new variation of SCP-1923 was discovered on SCP-1923-Alpha. Located on the equator, this leafless specimen (which terminates in a previously-unseen pod) has been witnessed aligning itself with the Sun and Earth at intervals of █ to ██ weeks. Related to this discovery, Foundation staff have noticed a slight increase in [EXPUNGED] during times in which the specimen was aligned with Earth. At this time, it is not known if [EXPUNGED] represents a coincidental biological process, or a form of communication, or something entirely different.3

Footnotes
1. Feasibility studies regarding the collection and retrieval of a sample of SCP-1923 for direct study are in progress.
2. Due to SCP-1923's canopy, it is currently unknown if these trees are an example of the rest of SCP-1923, or a unique variant of SCP-1923.
3. For elucidation: there are no practical or theoretical known examples of the use of [EXPUNGED] being used as a form of communication.

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