Item #: SCP-1924
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1924 is to be kept in a specialized 10m x 10m x 4m humanoid containment cell at Site ██, AZ. The cell is to be suspended in the center of a 50m x 50m x 50m enclosure. SCP-1924 requires no food, water, nourishment, or rest. The cell is to be furnished as a facsimile of a typical corporate office. Maintenance personnel are to wear clothing and badges consistent with Lockheed Martin Corporation custodial staff. At least one person is to be on hand at all times acting as SCP-1924's corporate manager. SCP-1924 is to be given a standard computer workstation and tasked with a pre-written regimen of phony administrative work. Tasking must be collected, and new tasks reassigned, every two hours. Tasking may be reused after 48 hours.
Description: SCP-1924 is a 37-year-old Caucasian male humanoid, formerly theoretical physicist Dr. G█████ F██████ working at Lockheed Martin's █████ ████ Research Facility. SCP-1924 randomly undergoes minor spacial distortion events including short-range teleportation of its body or individual limbs, restructuring of its anatomy, and partial to complete intangibility. SCP-1924 exhibits extreme cognitive dysfunction; it does not demonstrate understanding that it is contained, nor does it notice anything unusual during spatial distortions. Additionally, it suffers from extreme anterograde amnesia, being unable to recall most events beyond a two-hour time frame. Despite numerous containment breaches, SCP-1924 has never broken containment for more than 23 consecutive minutes, and has returned to its cell willingly after each breach.

Document 1924-5: Partial Incident Log

Date:
#:
Description:
Notes:

19/11/199█
05
SCP-1924 was in its cell reading a magazine. With no warning, its arm detached from its body, flew 22 meters away from its cell, passing through several walls, and then stopped, hovering in the middle of a research laboratory. The arm continued to pantomime the actions of holding a magazine and turning pages. SCP-1924 continued to read the magazine in its cell. The arm flew back and reattached itself after SCP-1924 finished the magazine and stood up.
SCP-1924 is not injured during anatomical separation. Its internal muscles, bone, and tissue were visible through the incident opening, though no blood was lost. The arm continued to display evidence of blood circulation and central nervous connectivity.

10/11/199█
23
SCP-1924 was found 12 meters away from its cell in a hallway, jogging in place. SCP-1924's legs were physically moving appropriate to forward motion jogging, but was gaining no ground. Guards physically lifted and returned SCP-1924 to cell, all while it still pantomimed jogging. SCP-1924 smiled and repeated the words, "Good evening, gentlemen" every 5.4 seconds while in the presence of the guards.
SCP-1924 teleportation events have never been more than 30m. Recommend suspending cell in 50m x 50m x 50m enclosure.

12/05/200█
37
SCP-1924 left the cell, pantomiming opening a door. Cell door did not open, but SCP-1924 walked through solid door. SCP-1924 then proceeded to walk through three walls, down several hallways, and access the Site ██ break room. SCP-1924 removed a half-empty gallon of milk from the refrigerator, then returned to its cell. SCP-1924 did not consume the milk.
SCP-1924's anomalous behavior manifests most when it is active. Recommending long-term sedation.

14/11/200█
71
SCP-1924 disappeared from cell during REM period. A maintenance worker found SCP-1924 in the corner of a Site ██ conference room, upside down with its head sunken into the floor. Its body was suspended in the air, with its arms and legs flailing wildly in an erratic, elastic fashion. While Foundation personnel were deciding what to do, SCP-1924 stood up normally, smiled, and asked if there was a problem. It then returned to its cell upon request.
It is theorized that SCP-1924's mental activity also contributes to triggering anomalous behavior. Recommending lobotomy or possibly a method to keep it continuously mentally subdued.

16/11/200█
73
SCP-1924 altered anatomically: its head was replaced with another leg, with the bottom of the foot attached to the neck. SCP-1924 then jumped straight up in the air 0.31 meters, its new leg perfectly mimicking its existing left leg. SCP-1924 proceeded to jump for 65,535 total times, each time rising exactly 0.31 meters. SCP-1924 intangibly jumped through the ceiling of its containment cell and the roof of Site ██. After the final jump, SCP-1924 immediately appeared back in its cell, anatomically correct.
65,535 is the highest number which can be represented by an unsigned 16 bit binary integer.

Document 1924-7: Personal Note
Document 1924-7 was recovered from the personal e-mail of Dr. G█████ F██████

J█████,

Sorry for not writing back sooner but congratulations again! That picture of the ultrasound is adorable… he looks like a little Han Solo frozen in carbonite!
As for me, yes, I'm fine, this whole project has me fascinated more than ever with my work. I've always enjoyed my job, but I used to see going to the lab as more of a 9-5 to pay the bills than "my life's work" or anything special… but this is all really coming together, and I've immersed myself, and I love it. I'm excited for the first time in a long while! We think we've finally got the hard value for the information density of two-dimensional space… and, yeah, I know that doesn't mean anything to you, but if this all works out… lets just say we should be able to actually read the fabric of reality like a book or the code of a computer program. Okay. Sorry, that probably doesn't mean anything to you either. Point is, there might be a big leap forward in physics soon, and my name is going to be all over it. Hell, if we're right… well… holy shit… you might get Stephen Hawking as the Godfather after all!
Anyways, good luck again with everything. I can't wait to see your new place over Christmas.

G█████

« SCP-1923 | SCP-1924 | SCP-1925 »


Item #: SCP-1925
Object Class: Neutralized (formerly Euclid; see Addendum)
Special Containment Procedures: Foundation agents embedded in the New York Police Department and the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey shall monitor both organizations for any reports of discoveries of human cadavers along the Hudson River at the NY–NJ border. Upon confirmation of an SCP-1925-A instance, Class B amnestics are to be administered to all direct witnesses and Class C amnestics to all indirect witnesses. Instances of SCP-1925-A are to be stored at the Humanoid Research Wing of Site 40 for thirty days, after which they are to be cremated. Instances of SCP-1925-B are to be transcribed to the database of the same site. As of █/██/20██, SCP-1925 is considered neutralized.
Description: SCP-1925-A is the designation given to a series of human corpses that have manifested along the banks of the Hudson River since the first confirmed sighting on █/██/20██. Although instances of SCP-1925-A vary in age, race, and sex, the following are consistent among all confirmed sightings:

No instances measuring less than 160cm in height and 50kg in weight have ever been recovered. (No longer true as of █/█/20██)
No clothing, jewelry, or other personal effects have ever been found on SCP-1925-A instances.
Bodies have never been found to be emaciated, disfigured, or otherwise in poor condition (with the exception of SCP-1925-B). Tests by medical doctors indicate that, in most cases, corpses are recently deceased enough that rigor mortis has not yet set in. No obvious cause of death is apparent in any instances, with typical signs of homicide (i.e. blunt force trauma, gunshot wounds, etc.) entirely absent.
No instances of SCP-1925-A correspond to any known individual. Extensive research by the Foundation into local, national, and international databases has failed to yield any information on the deceased individuals.

SCP-1925-A instances have all been sighted within a two-kilometer area along the Hudson River, on the border with Manhattan, New York and Hoboken, New Jersey. Attempts to monitor SCP-1925-A manifestations have been met with failure; through a combination of errors and oversights, no manifestations of SCP-1925-A have ever been successfully recorded. Attempts to cordon off the area where SCP-1925-A instances manifest have failed to prevent SCP-1925-A from appearing.
SCP-1925-B are a series of written messages inscribed into the backsides of each instance of SCP-1925-A. Messages appear to be written with an extremely fine instrument (possibly a laser cutter) and are evenly spaced and formatted, suggesting expert precision and technical skills on the part of the inscriber. Due to their length, they are extremely small and require several orders of magnification to read properly. All messages appear to be addressed to a "Caroline", and vary by tone and content depending on the message (see below).

Show Partial SCP-1925-B Archive

Access Granted

Note #: SCP-1925-B-01
Date of Recovery: ██/██/20██
Description of SCP-1925-A: Caucasian male, c. 21-24 years of age, 177cm/98kg
Transcription of Note Contents:
Dearest Caroline,
It has been far too long since I've seen your smiling face, so I feel the need to reach out to you once more. I hope all has been well with you since our unfortunate departure from each other's lives.
You'll forgive me for my unorthodox method of delivering this message, but…well, you know me. As a scientist, I seek ways to imbue my work into practical facets of my life, and this is an opportunity I could not pass up. I have been doing extensive research on the subjects of spacetime causality and the Theory of Relativity, and…well…let's just say Einstein is not as right as we think he is. Through methods far too complicated to explain in such a small space, I have, in effect, bent the laws of physics to my whim.
And what better way to bend them than to bend them for you, long lost love?
You may not think I was listening to you as you tried to explain your depressed state of mind, but I was. It made me angry, because I could not do anything. And so I asked myself: how could I make you happier? The answer: by removing those from the Earth that are less happy than you are. Surely if the net amount of joyful people decreases, the standard for happiness will decrease as well, no?
The specimen I have sent to you was a young student of mine. A powerful one, smart, and physically fit to boot. He will be missed. Which means, by extension, you will be wanted.
Contact me as soon as you wish.
With Sincerity,
████ ██████████

Note #: SCP-1925-B-12
Date of Recovery: ██/█/20██
Description of SCP-1925-A: Hispanic female, c. 35-40 years of age, 164cm/77kg
Transcription of Note Contents:
Dearest Caroline,
Since the beginning of my offerings to you, I have been contemplating a shift in my priorities. Previously I have focused on the young and the restless, those with the potential to become happier than you. It has occurred to me, however, that I may be attacking the branches of the issue, rather than the root. Why focus on ending those who can become happy when I can focus on those who are already happy?
The specimen I have sent to you was a mother of two. She was pleased with her station in life, and had the potential to spread this joy to those she loved. I have performed you a good service this day, yes?
Please respond as soon as you are able.
With Sincerity,
████ ██████████

Note #: SCP-1925-B-21
Date of Recovery: █/█/20██
Description of SCP-1925-A: [REDACTED]
Transcription of Note Contents:
Dearest Caroline,
Why? Why have my offerings not pleased you?
For quite some time now I have cared for you through my discovery, and have ensured that they are sent to you when you most need them. Have you been receiving them? Of course you have; my calculations pinpoint your location to the letter. Perhaps you do not appreciate what I have done fully. Perhaps I can show you.
I have attacked the branches, and the roots.
The specimen I have sent to you is a seed.
Respond to me, my love. Tell me you are happy. I just want you to be happy.
With Sincerity,
████ ██████████

Addendum: On █/█/20██, an instance of SCP-1925-A appeared which was significantly different from previous ones in its condition: a large opening (later determined to be created by a sharp kitchen knife) was present on the front neck. In addition, SCP-1925-B was inscribed crudely and haphazardly on the stomach of the subject, containing only one line:

FINAL OFFERING

Following this incident, no new instances of SCP-1925-A have been reported. SCP-1925 reclassified as Neutralized on █/██/20██.

« SCP-1924 | SCP-1925 | SCP-1926 »


Item #: SCP-1926
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1926 as well as SCP-1926-A and SCP-1926-B have been transported to a Standard Nonsentient Anomaly Chamber within Site-107. SCP-1926-A and SCP-1926-B have received adequate medical care since containment was enacted, but still require regular supervision and medical intervention to perpetuate their lives.
Person of Interest #1377 is currently housed within Site-107 and is planned to be amnesticized and released on 17/5/2006.
Description: SCP-1926 is the collective designation for an anomalously modified Atari 7800 console with an Atari game titled "Swordquest: Airworld" permanently inserted in the cartridge slot. There is a small MIDI input along the side in place of the expected expansion port.
While SCP-1926 is functionally identical and outwardly similar to a non-anomalous 1983-release Atari 7800 console, its interior is a singular mass of human tissue, hair, teeth, and bone fragments. DNA testing of the tissue located within SCP-1926 has not been fruitful to date. In spite of there being no physical barrier to doing so, attempting to separate these elements will meet with failure. The phrase "'Who put this dev kit together? Me, that's who! Who do I trust? Me!' – Tony Montana" is etched onto the bottom of the console, with "Atari Arcadia" embossed directly underneath the etching.

SCP-1926 at the site of discovery.

SCP-1926-A and SCP-1926-B are a set of comatose humans named Michael I. Jackalson and John Bronzeberg, respectively. Both have been integrated with equipment meant to simulate a virtual reality environment from within SCP-1926. Neurological analysis shows that SCP-1926-A and SCP-1926-B's brains are continually active in all sectors, including those governing the feeling of pain.
The virtual reality equipment consists of

Two sets of Virtual Reality goggles similar in design to the unreleased Atari Jaguar VR project, which are bolted over SCP-1926-A and SCP-1926-B's eyes,

Atari branded gloves, vests, pants, footings, and neck braces, also appearing similar to unreleased Jaguar VR equipment,

Red mouth guards which also protect the entities' noses,

and an cable of unknown purpose or design surgically attached to SCP-1926-A and SCP-1926-B's spines.

SCP-1926's MIDI input allows for the attachment of a microphone that can be used to communicate with SCP-1926-A and SCP-1926-B. Their internal monologue is played through an audio output device to which SCP-1926 is connected, allowing for direct communications to take place.
Since containment was enacted, SCP-1926-A and SCP-1926-B's legs have had to be amputated due to complications from necrosis which arose prior to the Foundation's acquisition of SCP-1926. Neither entity has been informed of this fact and it should not be acknowledged or addressed unless necessary.
Further Description of SCP-1926 Gameplay:
SCP-1926 is a two-player game where the player(s) take control of primitive polygonal humanoids in a 3D space with the objective of collecting items and clues. As SCP-1926 is a virtual reality game, the player(s) viewpoint is a first person perspective.
Similarly to the non-anomalous game entries (Earthworld, Fireworld, Waterworld), SCP-1926 is designed around spiritual themes, with Earthworld centered around the Western Zodiac, Fireworld's layout imitating the Kabbalah tree of life, and Waterworld resembling the Chakras. SCP-1926's design takes inspiration from the ancient Chinese text titled I Ching (易經), which is focused around divinity. SCP-1926's stages and action sequences are centered around the 64 hexagrams contained within the I Ching.
As with previous games SCP-1926 is also designed around its titular element. The "Air" based levels include challenges such as jumping on birds to avoid losing life, flying on a gust of wind through large towering spires, and navigating through tornadoes. Any other content is unknown, as SCP-1926-A and SCP-1926-B have declined to proceed further into SCP-1926.
Currently, whenever SCP-1926-A and SCP-1926-B "die" within SCP-1926, they are transported to SCP-1926's starting location. No checkpoints have been discovered within SCP-1926.
Discovery:
SCP-1926 was discovered in 2006 at the residence of PoI-1137 (Howard Scott Warshaw) after a noise complaint to local law enforcement described rhythmic "rumbling" noises emanating from PoI-1137's house. After receiving multiple warnings, PoI-1137 was arrested after police attempted to issue an in-person fine. Subsequently, law enforcement entered the home and discovered PoI-1137 unconscious, alongside a large quantity of refuse, all elements of SCP-1926, and an illegal quantity of controlled narcotics. SCP-1926-A and SCP-1926-B were screaming at PoI-1137 to wake up through the speakers of PoI-1137's television. Undercover Agent Jason Foley administered amnestics to all witnesses to the event and transported all items related to SCP-1926 to nearby Site-107.
The following is an interview conducted with PoI-1137 shortly after being remanded from police custody.

[BEGIN LOG]
Agent Foley: Hello, Howard. Please don't worry, we're not going to harm you, we just wish to ask you several questions.
PoI-1137: Hey now, I know you're the guys, you fuck people UP, you know? Right?
Agent Foley: Not true. We've treated you a lot better than the police would've, and if you answer some of our questions then we'll let you walk home free.
PoI-1137: This isn't my first rodeo. If you're offering me a deal like that, hoo boy, he wants to let the man go free. Listen, listen, I can talk but I really just wanna be listened to.
Neither PoI-1137 nor Agent Foley spoke for approximately ten seconds.
Agent Foley: Fascinating. Where did you obtain the technology that was in your house?
PoI-1137: Oh, you think I made that sloppy jalopy? Spare me, I'm dying of shame. No, I joined in late. Them's two were the ones who wanted to live life large and in charge.
Agent Foley: I'm familiar with your history, and what you've made in the past.
PoI-1137: Talking about the past, days gone by, mind if I just basically start from the beginning? It'll make more sense.
Agent Foley: Go ahead.
PoI-1137: A long ass time ago in my younger years, I was, er, still am, but was then too, programmer. Yarr's Revenge, Raiders of the Lost Ark… kind of E.T… you might've heard.
Agent Foley: As I said, yes, I'm aware of your history. If you want to give me the cliff's notes or skip the background entirely that would be best. I'm up to speed.
PoI-1137: Fine, fine. Fast forward a couple years, higher ups knew Atari wasn't really doing that hot. Our star'd been dropped in a toilet and gone to circling the drain. Nolan was gone, just bailed to play with his rat, which fucked us over hard. Management decided to put up some 'cost-cutting' measures, decided that a whiz-bang competition with cool prizes wasn't our ticket to the promised land. Nintendo and Sega were getting more popular and popular, tough to give out a crown after being knocked off the mountaintop.
Agent Foley: So then, you kept on with developing Swordquest? Even after the project was terminated?
PoI-1137: Me? Naw. I was looking out for number one.
PoI-1137 gestures towards themselves with both thumbs.
PoI-1137: So it's '83, right? Oh, end of days, oh oh, everyone's panicking, shit's horrible, yadda yadda. I get a memo, from John. Tells me the first three Swordquest games are out, but they need my help for the fourth. I tell them it's a dead project. They say they need my "special touch." What can I say? Doesn't take much flattery to charm a programmer. So I says yes and head over to his house. That's when I first saw the prototype. Definitely wasn't ready for market, John told me his wife'd left him on account of turning the whole house into a rat's nest.
Agent Foley: Was this an official project, or something else? Was it derived from an official dev kit?
PoI-1137: Neither. Dudes told me Nolan came to them.
Agent Foley: Physically, or are we talking in a dream?
PoI-1137: I don't know, they just said Nolan was calling the shots again and they needed my help to finish it. Maybe they were lying.
PoI-1137 pauses, drumming their fingers on the interview room table.
PoI-1137: So's I start going over there, and I find the… console. It's nasty, covered to the BRIM with teeth and hair and shit… no, not like, poopy, but… nevermind.
Agent Foley: You don't need to go into further detail.
PoI-1137: Normal people'd be asking them what the fuck was wrong with them, but I was high out of my mind at the time. Oh, quick tip, though…
Agent Foley: Yes?
PoI-1137: Try not to touch the teeth. They're dirty, if you get cut there's a nasty infection waiting for ya.
PoI-1137 removes a bandage from their left hand, revealing an amputated ring finger.
PoI-1137: I know what I'm talkin' about.
Agent Foley: Jesus. When did this happen? There's nothing in your medical records about-
PoI-1137: Had to take matters in my own hands.
Agent Foley: If you're going to need any medical attention…
PoI-1137: I can take care of myself. Unlike those num-nuts. Once it got close to done, maybe ready for testing we're looking for testers. Save a few bucks, they said, so they put on the gear, sit down on a chair, and they haven't gotten up since.
Agent Foley: Did you try to take any of it off?
PoI-1137: Meh. Any luck on your end?
Agent Foley: No. We're not trying to risk it.
PoI-1137: As long as you can keep the smell down, it's not like they're going anywhere.
[END LOG]

Addendum-1:

Interview with SCP-1926-A

Granted

Agent Foley: Hello Mich-
(SCP-1926-A's voice is measured at 92-95 dB, inflicting a mild injury to Agent Foley's eardrums.)
SCP-1926-A: LOUD. LOUD. QUIET PLEASE.
Agent Foley: Michael, it's fine, I'm not here to hur-
SCP-1926-A: BREATHING. BREATHING. A PAIN, HURTS. IF YOU'RE NOT HERE TO TALK AT LEAST FUCKING STAB ME. KILL ME.
Agent Foley: We need to talk first.
SCP-1926-A: THAT LIAR. NOLAN. CUT HIM UP AND ROLL HIM IN SALT. TAKE HIM TO THE BEACH WITH (Unintelligible) MY ASS, FUCKING DUMBASS.
Agent Foley: I'm not associated with Nolan, I've never even met him.
SCP-1926-A: THEN YOU'RE ONE OF RON'S VIRTUAL REALITY FETISHIST FREAKS.

Agent Foley: It's alright if you don't want to talk about Mr. Bushnell. Can we talk about Ron Gordon?
SCP-1926-A: Unintelligible noise.
Agent Foley: I'm here if you want to talk.
Interview was terminated after SCP-1926-A declined further communication.

Addendum-2:
All attempts at locating Nolan Bushnell have resulted in failure, as all public appearances made by the subject were performed by body doubles. These subjects stated they were paid by Nolan to impersonate him to keep his location secure. Nolan's current location is unknown.
Addendum-3:

Interview with SCP-1926-B

Granted

Agent Foley: John. John, can you hear me, over?
(Static)
Agent Foley: Joh-
SCP-1926-B: I'm here, I'm here, don't worry. Who are ya?
Agent Foley: My name is Jason Foley, I'm with a group of people here to assist you, over.
SCP-1926-B: I'm fine. It's kinda nice here.
Agent Foley: Can you tell us anything-
SCP-1926-B: Who am I kidding, it's shit, it's hell. It hurts to breathe, stand, walk, run, all that shit. We fucked up the hitboxes. Our entire body is one giant hitbox that hurts like hell when anything moving faster than a snail enters it. Serves us right for hiring a shitty programmer.
Agent Foley: I need you to stay with me here, John. What happened?
SCP-1926-B: We were too ambitious, wanting to make the ultimate immersive experience. Virtual reality, it was in the palm of our hands, you know? There just wasn't enough time. I'm going too fast. Airworld, right?
Agent Foley: Yes.
SCP-1926-B: Originally, Airworld was gonna be a regular game with clues inside of it just like the others. But apparently the powers that be thought that was too grandiose, especially with the company's financial problems going on. But the idea never left me. Nolan did, but then he came back.
Agent Foley: We talked to Howard, he told us that Nolan was the one telling you what to do.
SCP-1926-B: Scumbag. Ditched us when we needed him but when he needed us it was time to drop everything and get back to work.
(Static)
SCP-1926-B: Past my bedtime he walked through walls, purple neon with a flickering twist. I'd had worse acid flashbacks so I tried to talk to it. Him. But it wasn't a good time. Nolan's real, real as a hologram can be, anyway. I couldn't touch but his light touched me. The light asked if I'd ever performed teratoma surgery?
Agent Foley: I'm assuming that you hadn't?
SCP-1926-B: He made knives from my bedside table to stab himself in the gut more times than I could shake my head, thinking it was a dream, thinking I could force myself out jerking my head back and forth back and forth. It felt like it took hours until he made a hole in his gut big enough to force his head into. He pulled out something that was hairy, slimy, all around not a good time.
Agent Foley: So was this where the project started?
SCP-1926-B: Yes. I can still remember just how he said it.
The pitch of SCP-1926-B's audio drops.
SCP-1926-B: "Let's play one more game, bud. Here, baby, look at this. I've got a lot to show here. Making games very close to my heart and I know I can't trust anyone else to do it. I've been brewing this one inside me for a while now. It's exactly what you'll need for the job.
I got one lost project before I'm gone for good. Do me a favor, and save face, don't leave Atari's tainted legacy unchallenged. Don't stop until you've created something that God would spit at."
(SCP-1926-B's in-game avatar is struck by a sprite resembling a seagull.)
SCP-1926-B: Ah, fuck… fuck off you piece of shit. Fuck off, nobody loves you.

Incident Report:
On 5/5/2006, SCP-1926-B was encouraged to venture further into SCP-1926. Soon after, they discovered a small cave located at the bottom of a pit. SCP-1926-B complied when instructed to enter the cave. The only in-game objects were virtual teeth located on the walls of the cave which increased in quantity as SCP-1926-B progressed into the cave. SCP-1926-B stated that touching the teeth was painful and caused both SCP-1926-B and the attending Foundation personnel to experience waves of nausea upon contact.
After several hours, SCP-1926-B emerged into a large hollowed cavern with a large human heart, suspended from chains attached to the ceiling. Upon discovery, the heart's "beat" sprayed pixelated blood throughout the room. Contact with SCP-1926-B was lost after this incident and has not yet been re-established.
SCP-1926-A has refused any of the Foundation's suggestions or commands. Until this changes, the purpose of the room will remain unknown.

« SCP-1925 | SCP-1926 | SCP-1927 »


SCP-1927 shortly before recovery

Item #: SCP-1927
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1927 is to be contained in a holding cell measuring no less than 10 m x 15 m x 5 m, composed of stainless steel plated with a copper/platinum alloy, with a ten (10) cm thick sheet of glass covering the floor of the cell and surrounded by a layer of insulating material. In the event that SCP-1927 is not visible on the floor of its containment chamber, repeated shocks of 5 kV should be applied to the chamber until SCP-1927 dislodges itself from the walls or ceiling onto the floor. At five (5) day intervals, the organism should be fed one (1) live mammal with minimum of weight one hundred (100) kg. If the organism's total intake is expected to exceed one thousand (1000) kg in a single 30-day period, precautions should be taken to handle a reproductive event (see Addendum 1927-1).
Description: SCP-1927 is a mobile, predatory invertebrate exhibiting many traits in common with the Turbellaria subphylum of flatworms, rectangular in shape with a consistent thickness of approximately 0.3 m and lateral area of between fifteen and fifty (15-50) m2, weighing an estimated 500 kg. It has no visible sensory organs, and appears to detect nearby prey by means of vibrations.
The organism's upper layer is non-permeable and capable of extruding an organic hair-like covering at will, growing to a maximum length of 0.2 m in 24 hours and being 'shed' in a similar span of time, while the lower surface emits one of two compounds - a semi-solid adhesive that also serves to retain internal moisture, or a weak acidic secretion that will slowly dissolve any organic substance or oxidizable metal. Its body is highly resilient against environmental conditions and localized or generalized pressure, though it has proven vulnerable to high heat and electric shocks.
SCP-1927's 'head' is distinguished only by the presence of its mouth, from which it extends its pharynx to capture prey and drag it inside the organism's throat. Its internal structure is compressed and highly simplified, consisting of between eight (8) and twelve (12) pockets linked by muscular tubes dispersed throughout the organism's body that serve as both digestive chambers and storage units for its acid secretions. A network of ganglial tissue lumps linked by strands of nervous tissue is likewise dispersed throughout SCP-1927's body, and neither excretory nor reproductive organs are in evidence, nor any sign of a circulatory system.
SCP-1927 'hunts' by means of spreading itself on a horizontal surface, using its acidic secretion to dissolve a concealing cavity into the surface of sufficient size to rest itself and conceal its edges, and waiting for a prey animal of sufficient size to approach it. To aid this, SCP-1927 has demonstrated an extremely versatile ability to adopt reactive camouflage, recoloring its upper surface to blend in with its surroundings. How the organism is able to reproduce colors and patterns without any detectable visual organs is unknown, but it can do so with significant accuracy, sufficient to replicate (if crudely) a piece of modern artwork placed underneath it. The instance of SCP-1927 currently in Foundation custody was captured in ████, █████, where it was disguising itself as a pedestrian crosswalk.
When a prey animal moves within range, SCP-1927 will lunge forward and capture the prey in its mouth before using its pharynx to force the prey further down its throat, where intense muscular contractions rapidly crush the prey to death. After swallowing, it will remain in place or relocate to a more isolated location to digest.
As long as it remains fed, SCP-1927 is relatively docile, requiring up to two (2) days of inactivity to fully digest a 100 kg prey source. It will grow in area at a rate of approximately 1 cm2 per day with consistent feeding, scaling exponentially if supplied with more or less than its minimum necessary diet. If deprived of food entirely, it will shrink to its minimum observed dimensions before entering an aestivative state. If its dimensions grow to exceed 50 m2, it will enter a similar aestivative state in preparation for division (see Addendum 1927-1).
Addendum 1927-1: 4 months after containment was established, SCP-1927 was observed to enter a highly agitated state, attempting to climb the walls of its chamber five times in succession before ceasing and entering an aestivative state. During the period since its capture, the organism had been fed large amounts of prey animals at irregular intervals for the purpose of observation and testing, and had grown to approximately 55 m2. 7 hours later, it split along its midsection line perpendicular to its long side and created two organisms of identical size and dimensions. After applying electrical current to both organisms as a precaution, one of the two instances of SCP-1927 was extracted from the containment chamber for vivisection. Since then, it has divided a total of █ times, in each case following the same conditions and pre-emptive behavior.

« SCP-1926 | SCP-1927 | SCP-1928 »


Item #: SCP-1928
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1928 should be kept in a padded, airtight case to prevent damage or accidental activation of anomalous properties.
This artifact is stored at Research Sector-09 as a part of the Bonifay family collection. Cross-testing of SCP-1928 with SCP-1890 and SCP-1896 has been suspended, pending further study of Incident Times-Union (see Addendum 2).
Description: SCP-1928 is a banjo uke or “banjolele”, identical to a discontinued brand originally mass-manufactured in the 1920s.
When strummed or tapped with only one hand, SCP-1928 produces sounds comparable to a non-anomalous instrument. However, when a human subject places both hands on any part of the artifact, they will be compelled to play it. Except in cases of disability or manual impairment, subjects affected by SCP-1928 demonstrate consistently superior technique and speed in various styles of strumming and fingerpicking.
No audible sound is produced by this compulsive playing. In-person observation and audio recordings have only reported the sounds of the affected subjects' breathing or the rustle of their clothing.
Tested subjects describe their movements as involuntary; while affected, however, subjects' facial cues and body language suggest intent concentration or thoughtfulness. While under the influence of SCP-1928, subjects will not respond to visual or auditory stimuli, only returning to full consciousness if another individual comes into physical contact with SCP-1928.
Six images of SCP-1928, identified by distinctive scratches and the capital "BON" scratched on the back of the head, have been found in SCP-1890. The instrument is pictured in the hands of individuals of different ethnicities and ages, or placed on display with other valued possessions.
Addendum 1:
As of 10/12/██, 7 days to the hour since the first test conducted with SCP-1928 and a human subject, a secondary effect has been observed.

+Excerpts from research notes

-close Research notes

excerpts from the notes of Researcher Hart:
10/12/██

While returning another item to containment, a research assistant noticed that SCP-1928 was vibrating inside of its protective case. The assistant reported this anomaly promptly, and did not attempt to handle the object. I arrived within five minutes of the alert, at which point the vibration had ceased. Seconds later, the sounds of banjo music could be heard in the immediate vicinity of SCP-1928, unmuffled by the case, at about the same volume as a comparable instrument being played.
After about sixty seconds, the melody was joined by a voice, singing in a style reminiscent of the sprechstimme featured in many American folk songs. This "song" lasted for approximately four and a half minutes, but the assistant and myself were unable to record the music. Curiously, although we both identified the sung language as American English, we were unable to remember any of the lyrics or even individual words of the "song". SCP-1928 was removed from containment for close observation.

10/14/██

At 15:07, the phenomenon occurred again, myself and several assistants and D-class subjects observing. Despite the cooperation of six listeners, no member of our group was able to recall the lyrics of the song after its abrupt end. Listeners also described markedly different voices— some identifying the singer as an adult male, others as an aged adult male, an adult female, or a child. Memories of the song's melody and style remained, however, and subjects unanimously recalled hearing a "lament" or synonymous descriptor.

Attempts to record the music with analogue, digital, even [REDACTED] devices resulted in nothing but 5 minutes and 16 seconds of static.

10/19/██

After the third recurrence of this phenomena (seven days to the hour after the initial third test of SCP-1928), it was clear that the timing of the anomalous music coincided with the dates of the initial tests. In preparation for the next occurrence, a visual recording of the fourth test was set to play simultaneously with the first notes of anomalous music, in accordance with times noted in the original experiment log.
A Level 2 researcher with considerable experience playing stringed instruments observed and confirmed that the test subject's motions in the recording were perfectly in sync with the anomalous music.

11/02/██

This phenomena has been observed ten times in the course of two months, always corresponding to the date, time, and duration of previously conducted tests.

Addendum 2:
Some time after the observation of SCP-1928's secondary effect, approval was granted for cross-testing of the "Bonifay family" artifacts— SCP-1928, SCP-1890, and SCP-1896 —in an effort to learn more about the seemingly interrelated history and nature of these items. Incident Times-Union describes the textual and photographic alterations that occurred as a result of these experiments.

+Excerpts from experiment log

-close Excerpts from experiment log

Procedure: SCP-1928 was placed in the hands of subjects already under the anomalous influences of SCP-1890 (i.e. still experiencing acute face-blindness and ability to recall the Bonifay photographs in great detail), designated Group A; or SCP-1896 (i.e. having recently experienced more than 40 minutes of associated sensory distortion and hallucination), designated Group B; with Group C consisting of subjects under the influence of both items.
Results: Subjects of all three groups were unaffected by SCP-1928's compulsive properties. Instead, upon placing both hands on the artifact, subjects expressed nostalgic attachment and familiarity with the object.

Subjects in Group A immediately and unquestioningly recognized SCP-1928 as the artifact depicted in SCP-1890, expressing delight at having a chance to see "the family's baby banjo"— a phrase used by five of the seven test subjects. Regardless of prior knowledge, subjects were able to answer questions pertaining to the history and technical properties of the banjo uke with some specificity. Each subject claimed to know the original owner of the instrument, although no two subjects described the same individual. The artifact was described alternatively as a wedding present, the hand-crafted work of a multi-talented farmer, and the product of a successful barter with a witch, among other detailed anecdotes.

Subjects in Group B all recognized SCP-1928 as a familiar object, but were not certain why or from where they recognized it. However, unlike subjects in Group A, when prompted to attempt to play the instrument (and in some cases without prompting) subjects in Group B were able to play the instrument with a moderate to high level of skill, despite being specifically chosen for their lack of musical background. Unlike music previously produced by SCP-1928, these melodies were immediately audible and recordable. The songs played were recognizable American folk tunes, all predating the 1930s, including "Idumea", "O Death", "Pretty Polly", and a traditional arrangement of Psalm 137. While it is impossible to be certain, the similar themes expressed in the songs' lyrics— particularly Psalm 137, or "Babylon", which was heard most frequently— may have some connection to the artifact's history.

Subjects in Group C did not simply display a combination of the previous behaviors, but experienced heightened delusions of familiarity with SCP-1928. The subjects seemed to regard themselves as descendants of the Bonifay family, unconsciously slipping into the first person when relating the artifact's history. As in previous cases, no two of these stories were identical— although many of the places and persons mentioned corresponded to the notations in SCP-1890. When Group C subjects were prompted to play the instrument, they not only played but sang, and frequently offered to perform "an old family song" without prompting. As in previous tests, however, these songs have proven unrecordable by manual or technological means. Neither researchers or test subjects were able to recall the lyrics sung.

+Incident Times-Union

-close Incident Times-Union

copy of an altered photo; previously depicted an empty field

During and after the testing of subjects in Group C, anomalous irregularities were observed in several paper documents. All of these documents were either inside or in the near vicinity of the testing room while the subjects were speaking or playing under the influence of SCP-1928. Most of these irregularities consisted of the word "family" or a short phrase ("by the waters", "please consider my age") appearing in the middle of a sentence, in both handwritten and typewritten documents.
A total of 18 altered documents were collected (see attached files for detailed list), and cessation of testing seems to have curbed the spread of the anomalous changes.
Of these collected items, the most notable is a copy of the local Sun Sentinel newspaper, dated 01/10/██. During testing of SCP-1928 with a Group C subject, assistant Researcher Evans observed the text and images printed in this newspaper changing to reflect a 1920s edition of the Times-Union, one of the oldest Floridian newspapers.
These changes were incomplete, affecting only individual columns and pages of the document— sports columns reporting on decades-old games, political articles changed to reflect the local concerns of Florida in 1928, etc. Of greatest relevance, however, were the changes to the obituaries and photographs: photos were not only altered to reflect the technology of the 1920s, but changed to feature indistinct human figures in spaces that had been blank. None of these figures can be identified. The obituary section was expanded to include nearly one thousand names, in some places printed over the top of one another, all sharing the surname "Bonifay".

« SCP-1927 | SCP-1928 | SCP-1929 »


Footage of SCP-1929-1 instance, taken from civilian "Oresmus Film".

Item #: SCP-1929
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: All non-human instances of SCP-1929-1 should be held in storage containment units, located in Site-56, Site-66, and Site-76, which are all located in the Midwestern United States. Containment teams made up of three or more agents should be sent into the field whenever a possible report of an SCP-1929 instance is received. Research has determined that instances of SCP-1929 most commonly appear in the area identified as the "Dust Bowl", and as such agents have been dispatched there to form permanent research and containment stations. Anomalous specimens encountered in the field should be brought to one of these stations.
All towns that have been affected by SCP-1929 have been quarantined by SCP Foundation personnel. Nobody is to be allowed entry without proper authorization, and any human instances of SCP-1929-1 are to be terminated by bombardment with water. Townsfolk are not to be informed of this, as it may cause them to goad perimeter guards into destroying them.
Description: SCP-1929 was an event that occurred on 3/16/1934, in the US states of Oklahoma, Kansas, Texas, New Mexico and Colorado, creating the SCP-1929 area of effect. Its initial event manifested as a large, violent dust storm, which isolated several communities for long periods of time. Currently, over 60 artifacts generated or altered by SCP-1929, classified as SCP-1929-1, are held by the SCP Foundation. Three towns were eradicated with four others being severely damaged. These areas constitute SCP-1929's current radius of effect.
All humans living within these towns have had their bodies altered to be similar to domesticated animals, or to be composed of dust. Local residents reported that their bodies have a constant feeling of "itching" in the affected appendages. Residents are not able to eat or drink, but have continued to feel hunger and thirst pains while in containment. Those who have portions of their bodies break off will report still feeling pain from the missing limbs, even if they have dissolved. In addition, several missing residents appear to have been killed during the storm, with portions of their body integrated into local wildlife and fauna. No rain has fallen within 2 km of these towns since 2/11/1934.

Subject's lungs were found to be filled with dust during autopsy.

Any foods or drinks brought within areas affected by SCP-1929 will have their outer layer coated with dust, and become dry when contacted by humans. Locusts will grow from the food if no human contacts it for 3 hours after entry, and will consume the food. These locusts will then attempt to consume people and structures within the town until killed. Swarms of locusts are known to roam underpopulated portions of the area affected SCP-1929, and will occasionally harass SCP Foundation personnel.
Residents composed entirely out of dust, sand, and soil have been found to combine with similarly affected objects in contact. Combinations of humans, canines, felines, and farming equipment have been discovered. Personnel are to note that no water is to be provided to these creatures, as it will destroy them. Agents may request sound dampening earplugs if they are harassed by humanoid instances of SCP-1929-1.
Residents have been noted as becoming significantly more withdrawn, keeping to their property and venturing to Foundation stations only for requested interviews. Examinations of these people has shown that their skin was completely coated in dust, in addition to dust coating the interior of their bodies. Some residents, primarily the very elderly and the very young, are unable to speak, due to the presence of large amounts of dust in the esophagus and the lungs. In addition, 12 instances of SCP-1929-1 have had portions of their body replaced with a mixture of blood, dust, and water. All persons who were affected by SCP-1929 will bleed sand instead of blood, with expected damage caused to their bodies.
Other events have been known to occur, usually accompanied by small, localized dust storms. Houses may appear to become dilapidated overnight, or to be shifted randomly throughout the towns. Residents have been known to have the dust portions of their bodies suddenly dissolve, and re-appear in one of the other SCP-1929 affected towns. Buildings may displace themselves to other SCP-1929 affected areas, or disappear for extended periods of time. Residential buildings will appear and disappear without warning, with agents inside displaced buildings to be assumed lost. Persons found within these buildings will not report memory of where they were prior to manifestation. In addition, the voices of people local residents claim to have gone missing have been heard. For a full log of anomalous activity taking place in SCP-1929 towns, see the Addendum 1929-C.
SCP-1929's effect was first noted by Foundation personnel after reports of it reached personnel embedded in the local weather stations. Concerns were initially raised over apparent similarity with infestations of SCP-165, although further examination of the anomaly would later show no connection. When personnel were sent to investigate, they discovered several persons who had been altered by SCP-1929. When asked to testify, residents gave contradictory reports ranging from seeing a person standing outside in the storm, to some other non-humanoid organism obscured by dust.
Addendum 1929-A: Telephone conversation transcribed by SCP Foundation operatives, call was placed by a person within the SCP-1929 affected zone during the initial event:

<Begin Log>

Operator: Hello, this is-

Person: Hey, please just listen! There's a storm incoming, but that ain't-

Operator: Frank, that you? What's going on out there?

Person: There's a person! Outside my house!

Operator: Who is it, someone local? Maybe Jacob?
Person: <Unknown garbled sounds, due to interference>

Operator: Frank?

Person: He's…<static> don't… <static> …coming closer.

Operator: Can you make out who it is, Frank?

Person: No! He looks… bad, off. I think he's hurt. He's limping, or stuttering, or something.

Operator: Let him in then, nobody should be in a storm like that with a bum leg.
<Noise can be heard over the line, in addition to at least three muffled voices>
Operator: Frank, are you there?

Person: <At a distance> [He's] supposed to look that way.
Operator: Frank?
10 minutes and 14 seconds pass, during which the sound of rising winds can be heard. The operator occasionally attempts to inquire into the persons current status, with no response

Unknown: … just breathe, Frank. It's all okay now. We don't have to fight.

<End Log>

Addendum 1929-B: Interview with local resident D████ ██████.

Interviewed: D████ ██████

Interviewer: Dr. Boyd

<Begin Log>

Dr. Boyd: Can you tell me your take on the incident?

D████ ██████: Well… I'd just come home from town, been trying to get some more work. Mary and Albert were asleep, but I wasn't really… I was too worried to sleep. So, I was walking around outside.

Dr. Boyd: That was when it happened?

D████ ██████: (Nods) I was just leaning on the door when I heard it. Another dust storm, coming in from the east. But… it was different. Just… darker than pitch black, and the howling sounded like the hounds of hell brayin'. I got inside quick, locked the doors, and hunkered down with Mary and Albert in the bedroom. We waited for it to pass.

Dr. Boyd: Did it pass?

D████ ██████: … No. It just kept going, on and on… for days. It didn't feel right. The dust caught on your arm hair and stuck, clumpin' and crystilatin' like nothin' I'd seen before that storm. Albert… Christ, it got in his eyes. Couldn't see, but he told us they were still lookin', but they took his eyes. Lord help him, they took his eyes.
Dr. Boyd: They?
D████ ██████: The geeks out there… they take the eyes. Skin, voice… they want them. When we itch, they catch it in their baskets, and leave us to dry out in the dust. We're not sharp anymore, but we still know what it does.

Dr. Boyd: Alright, thank you for-

D████ ██████: So, when are you helping us?

Dr. Boyd: Excuse me?

D████ ██████: When are you going to put things back the way they were, before it happened?

Dr. Boyd: It's being-

D████ ██████: You think we like living like this? There's the god forsaken dust eroding everybody into soil! Do you know what it feels like to have one of your arms scatter like so much soil, but still able to feel every little bit floatin' in the wastes? You don't! So help us! Aren't we still human beings, or what?
<End Log>

Addendum 1929-C:

Anomalous Events Noted to have been caused by SCP-1929

Access Granted

Several pairs of scissors become animate within a drugstore, causing significant harm to several patrons as well as SCP Foundation agents. After 3 hours, they become inert. Confiscated by agents and classified as instances of SCP-1929-1. When examined, it is determined that the scissors were lifted into the air by currents of air and dust particles.

Several spigots within the town begin to produce large quantities of dust, which townsfolk interpret as water. Several people consume enough sand to completely coat the inside of their throat and mute themselves, while others have large portions of their bodies embedded with dust. After 3 days, none of the involved persons claimed any memory of the event.

A feline creature with humanoid facial features and fingers in place of paws breaches an SCP Foundation observation site, killing Agent J██████ and wounding two others before being hosed and dissolved. Analysis of the remains showed a mixture of at least 4 different human remains, in addition to the remains of one rabbit. Agent J██████'s body dissolved into dust 2 hours after the incident.

Documentation of organism which fatally injured Agent J██████.

A canid creature with human-like arms was seen running at high speeds through several abandoned farms. After agents began to pursue it, the creature began increasing its speed dramatically and escaped sight. Several townspeople have reported seeing this creature as well.

Subjects within SCP-1929 have also repeatedly reported several repeated types of anomalous phenomenon, such as:

The sounds of glass shattering loudly, occurring randomly and without any type of warning. The sound have been compared to sheet glass impacting a wall, dropping a wine glass onto tile floor, a series of glass objects breaking in succession. This sound has not been reported by subjects deafened due to SCP-1929's effect, and is assumed to be a non-cognitohazard.
Several townspeople in Kansas reported hearing something pressing on their doors at night. SCP Foundation personnel deemed these claims to be accurate, but no further action has been taken.
Several town residents reported that a masked woman had been watching them sleep. No such figure is witnessed by agents.
Feelings of dread or anxiety at random times, which seems to precipitate the arrival of additional dust storms to the area. Residents are occasionally seized with the urge to leave their homes, and attempt to enter these storms as they pass. Subjects will claim to hear deceased family members or friends urging them to join the cloud, and to abandon their lives. In addition, a humanoid male has been spotted within these dust clouds, knocking on each door under storm conditions. No agent has reported hearing these knocks, even when they are within the buildings.

« SCP-1928 | SCP-1929 | SCP-1930 »


Item #: SCP-1930
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1930 is stored in a standard Safe-class secure item locker at Site 19. Experimentation with SCP-1930 may only be performed with Class D personnel, and a digital audio recorder is to be kept on in SCP-1930's locker and checked every 24 hours for any anomalous audio, which should be forwarded to research staff for analysis.
Description: SCP-1930 is a worn metal first-aid kit box consistent with those produced circa 1944 for the U.S. Army in World War II. SCP-1930 can be identified by a series of scratches on the bottom of the case (|||| ||), as well as by being anomalously heavy (approximately 23kg), even when empty. When opened, the back surface of SCP-1930 appears to be composed of a black material that absorbs all light. All attempts to take a sample of this material or otherwise damage it have failed, and spectroscopic analysis is inconclusive.
If SCP-1930 is placed open on a flat surface near an injured human subject, one or more emaciated human arms will extend from the black inside surface and attempt to treat the subject. Such treatment has taken the form of a variety of procedures from basic first aid to complex surgery; the arms will make appropriate use of any tools or instruments provided. Once treatment is complete, the arms will retract into SCP-1930. The treatment administered by SCP-1930 is typically medically appropriate, if not necessarily effective. As the movements of the arms tends to be jerky or spasmodic, sensitive procedures — especially invasive surgery — tend to result in significant collateral damage and harm to the subject.
SCP-1930 was discovered in the basement of the abandoned [REDACTED] Medical Center near [REDACTED]. A worker assisting in the demolition of the building discovered SCP-1930, which activated and attempted to treat a minor cut on the worker's arm. Witnesses were administered Class A amnestics and later released.
Addendum 1930-01: Notable Experiments Log
Subject: D-3414
Date: █/█/██
Known Injuries: Broken arm
Tools Provided: Full first-aid kit and trauma kit
Results: SCP-1930 applied a splint to the broken arm. Subject complained that the bandage was too tight, and subsequently had to be re-treated due to loss of circulation in the affected arm.
Subject: D-3551
Date: █/██/██
Known Injuries: Gunshot wound to leg, medium caliber
Tools Provided: Full first-aid kit and trauma kit
Results: SCP-1930 removed the bullet, but severely damaged surrounding tissue in the process, resulting in a pronounced limp in Subject.
Subject: D-3559
Date: ██/█/██
Known Injuries: Common cold
Tools Provided: Full first-aid kit and trauma kit
Results: SCP-1930 incised into subject's abdomen with a scalpel, causing massive trauma and internal bleeding while attempting to remove something. Subject expired before procedure was completed; subsequent autopsy revealed an undiagnosed malignant tumor in subject's liver.
Observer Note: Following expiration of D-3559, SCP-1930 appeared to have attempted to cut its own wrist with the scalpel before the scalpel was forcibly removed.
Subject: D-4819
Date: ██/██/██
Known Injuries: Skin rash
Tools Provided: Full first-aid kit and trauma kit
Results: Observers reported that SCP-1930 emitted a loud screaming sound, and repeatedly stabbed subject with several sharp instruments until subject expired. Autopsy found no unusual conditions in subject.
Observer Note: Examination of subject's criminal record revealed that D-4819 had been a surgeon prior to incarceration, and had been convicted of killing two women undergoing medical treatment.
Addendum 1930-02: Incident Report
On █/██/██, Dr. █████████ inadvertently left a digital voice recorder active next to SCP-1930 following an experimental procedure. When later examined, the voice recorder was discovered to have picked up anomalous audio. Subsequent experimentation confirmed that digital audio recordings made at close range can pick up audio inaudible to human hearing.
To date, the audio recorded near SCP-1930 has included:

The sound of a human male subject sobbing and crying.
Scratching sounds similar to the sounds of nails scraping across a metal surface.
Soft tapping or banging.
An indeterminate male voice whispering, "I'm sorry" and "please let me go".

« SCP-1929 | SCP-1930 | SCP-1931 »


PeppersGhost

SCP-1931 - The Bite of Flight by PeppersGhost

More by this author

Image from SCP-1931's online auction, uploaded by Mr. ████████.

Item #: SCP-1931
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1931 is to be kept in a climate-controlled containment vault at Storage Site-41 to protect it from deterioration. In order to prevent the spread of blood-borne disease among personnel, only D-Class personnel may be used in conjunction with SCP-1931's anomalous effects when human testing is necessary.
Description: SCP-1931 is the head of an adult female Panthera tigris tigris (Bengal tiger), stuffed and preserved through taxidermy. A number of scars are present on SCP-1931's face, determined to have been inflicted by other animals. The wound at the base of the head has been filled with tar, presumably by the original owner. A small bronze plaque bearing the words "Property of Herman Fuller's Circus Of The Disquieting" is embedded in the tar. Despite its poor condition, SCP-1931 appears to have been restored several times in the past, primarily through the painting of its fur; however, there is no indication that the teeth have been altered in any way since the animal's death. A mechanical hinge has been installed in SCP-1931's jaw, allowing it to open and close freely.
Any organism, living or otherwise, that is physically harmed by SCP-1931's fangs will begin to levitate at a height proportional to the severity of the damage inflicted, though the precise proportion seems to vary between cases and has not yet been determined. Preliminary testing has shown that minor wounds typically result in subjects floating between 0.5m and 3m above the ground, whereas severe trauma has resulted in subjects rising to stratospheric heights at speeds in excess of 20km/h. Once suspended at a given height, affected subjects will be able to propel themselves laterally when presented with a given means of thrust. SCP-1931's effects on a subject will cease 30 to 35 hours after initial injury, causing the subject to descend at a rate consistent with natural falls from a given height.
Foundation intelligence discovered SCP-1931 on 03/14/2013 when a man named Jackson ████████ put the item on an online auction site, claiming it could grant the power of flight. According to his testimony, Mr. ████████ discovered SCP-1931 while digging the foundation for a barn and learned of its anomalous effects from other items found at the same time (see Addendum SCP-1931-DOC). He was administered amnestics and SCP-1931 was recovered without incident. SCP-1931 was originally found in a silk-padded glass case contained within a steel ossuary. A tanned pelt and the unpreserved remains of a headless Bengal tiger were also found in the ossuary, both confirmed to belong to SCP-1931. Both the body's front paws were observed to have been crudely severed, the left apparently reattached with metal wire and the right missing entirely.1
Addendum SCP-1931-DOC: Several items were recovered from SCP-1931's grave in addition to its remains. SCP-1931-DOC-A is a transcription of the text found on a promotional illustration bearing the image of a living SCP-1931 pouncing on a young calf. SCP-1931-DOC-B is a series of journal entries pertaining to SCP-1931, selected from the pages of a leather-bound log owned by a Mr. Bernard Crawford. SCP-1931-DOC-C is a document listing the contents of a smaller wooden box buried adjacent to SCP-1931's ossuary.

+ SCP-1931-DOC-A

- SCP-1931-DOC-A

Herman Fuller's Circus Of The Disquieting
— proudly presents —
AMELIA THE WONDER TIGER
Come see the creature with the BITE of FLIGHT
for
ONE DAY ONLY
this Saturday at the [REDACTED] County Fairgrounds!
Arrive before 5 PM and receive a complementary balloon animal!

+ SCP-1931-DOC-B

- SCP-1931-DOC-B

SCP-1931-DOC-B1

24-02-1931
Jenny gave birth to her first litter of cubs yesterday evening. One of them did not survive, the other three seem healthy.
The smallest one, though, still baffles my mind. I went to bed last night certain that I had been dreaming, and yet I have awoken and my dreams persist. In all the years I've spent around tigers, I have never seen or heard of anything remotely similar to this. It is bizarre, and somewhat frightening; however, I choose to see this as an immense blessing. She is unique in all the world, and I have a very strong feeling she will be my ticket to fame and fortune among my peers in the field of entertainment. I have named her Amelia Earhart, in honour of the pilot who made the incredible transatlantic flight two years ago. It seemed fitting, as both seem to possess the gift of flight, so to speak. As soon as she is weaned, I will begin training.

SCP-1931-DOC-B2

19-04-1933
Amelia continues to prove exceptionally intelligent and affectionate. Beyond her extraordinary abilities, she has shown herself to be a remarkable performer in general and has consistently outshone both her siblings—and every other tiger I have encountered, for that matter. Crowds have increased substantially at Marco Bros. since I incorporated her into my act, and in turn our salary has improved as well. I am putting much of the extra funds into buying fresh salmon for Amelia, as it appears to be her food of choice and I am told it is good for her coat.

SCP-1931-DOC-B3

24-02-1935
My fortune improves by the day. A gentleman by the name of Herman Fuller arrived at my house this morning and invited me to join his travelling circus in America. When I informed him that I was already employed at the Marco Bros. Circus, he offered to pay me four times my current salary and personally cover all my travel expenses. How could I refuse an offer such as that? I have written my resignation letter and shall submit it in the morning. My only concern is how Amelia and the other tigers will handle the overseas travel.

SCP-1931-DOC-B4

03-05-1935

It is now our third day here at the Herman Fuller circus. Amelia and her family have already made friends with some of the other animals here. I haven't adjusted quite as quickly; this troupe is astoundingly massive compared to Marco Bros' and the experience has been more than a little overwhelming. Many of the other performers here have bizarre talents that defy all reason; I am not bothered by this per se, but I can't help but feel as though Amelia has gone from being a one-of-a-kind star to simply being just another 'magic animal'. But out of all our problems, the worst is that we are currently positioned two tents away from the Den of Freaks. I am very uncomfortable with this arrangement, but so long as they stay far away from me and my animals, everything should be fine.
Still, our experience so far has been largely positive. The general attitude among performers is pleasant and everyone has been very impressed by my animals, especially Amelia. Also, in addition to earning money by performing our act, the Ringmaster had the brilliant suggestion to supplement our income by selling 'balloon animals': stray cats and dogs given the kiss of flight and tied to strings. It's a tad macabre for my tastes, but our patrons seem to love it. My fortune improves by the day.

SCP-1931-DOC-B5

22-09-1935

The Ringmaster invented a delightful new finale for our act, involving a number of clowns being gingerly bitten in succession and bouncing off the walls of the bigtop. They're surprisingly good sports about it; I like to think they must still have a fair amount of English blood in their veins.

SCP-1931-DOC-B6

13-10-1937
A young boy approached me today and asked what happens to balloons that are released into the air. I told him I didn't know, since saying that they pop and fall to the earth would sound especially unpleasant in this context.

SCP-1931-DOC-B7

24-02-1938

Amelia and I have arranged to vacation back in England while Yuri watches over the other tigers. I know that Essex is not exactly her species' homeland, but I feel that she may still enjoy revisiting the place of her birth.

SCP-1931-DOC-B8

(No date given)

I have seen a side to this circus darker than anything beyond my wildest dreams. If I did not sleep surrounded by wild beasts I would surely fear the worst.

SCP-1931-DOC-B9

06-08-1949
Once again, the Ringmaster requested that Amelia and I take care of an unwanted party. It was especially windy tonight, and I would be surprised if she hasn't drifted halfway to Sweden by now. I'll admit that it's a messy means of disposal, but at least it's a mess that we don't have to clean up.

SCP-1931-DOC-B10

10-11-1953
Our act—ruined! My darling—crippled! And yet not a word of sympathy for either of us. Goddamn freaks! That hellish thing takes off half of Amelia's right leg, and everybody believes the freaks when they say that she made the first move. Everyone's so blasted scared of the man with the upside-down face that they're letting the freaks walk all over us! I've been telling the Ringmaster for years that we should just drop the Den of Freaks and the Freak Parade and stick to acts that require actual skill and intellect. I said it time and time again, and now that damn palm reader is wearing my girl's foot as a trophy! We're all a little strange here, yes, but those creatures aren't even human, least of all that monstrosity. It's bad enough we have to put up with the clowns, now we have to worry about the freaks dropping their facades and hacking off our heads and limbs. It's a bloody shame how downhill things have gone since I first arrived here.

SCP-1931-DOC-B11

24-02-1955
I have had it with this confounded place! Any semblance of dignity, decency, and order this circus may have once had is long gone. Monstro-Boy,2 that reeking, foul-mannered, snaggletoothed gremlin had the gall to lay a hand on Amelia, and when I put him in his place, the Ringmaster lashed out at me! I knew the man with the upside-down face's influence was spreading, but I had no idea that even the Ringmaster was under his thumb. I cannot tolerate this lack of professionalism any longer. As soon as I have the wherewithal, I'm taking my animals elsewhere.

SCP-1931-DOC-B12

09-02-1955
Plans have changed. Amelia is ill. She picked up some terrible disease from that filthy freak and now she is dying.
If I lose her, I swear this shall be my suicide note.

SCP-1931-DOC-B13

13-03-1955
I lost Amelia three days ago. I have only now regained enough sobriety to write legibly. I insisted on giving her a good, proper, Christian burial, but the Ringmaster claimed her body as his property. He has had her head preserved and continues to use it to provide the public with his infernal balloon animals. I was only permitted to bury her body.
I have no anger or grief now, only a sense of duty. I cannot take my own life and leave the rest of my animals to this damned place. Furthermore, the work that Amelia and I started will continue in her name.

SCP-1931-DOC-B14

27-07-1964
It took some time, but justice has finally been dealt. Monstro-Boy has been rightly exposed as the murderer he is. The fact that he did not commit the murders for which he was apprehended is of no consequence to me. The best part is that while his name goes down in ruin, mine remains pure: even those in the circus who are sympathetic to the monster blame his idiot brother Jacob. Not a single heart is turned against me now.
Therefore, I have taken this opportunity to take Amelia's head from the curiosity tent and bury it with the rest of her remains. She can finally be at rest. The work is completed and the indignity has ended.
My secrets cannot remain safe from the man with the upside-down face for much longer. I apologize that I had to borrow your remaining front paw, but it seemed fitting to complete our work by your hand. My life will soon be over, but at least I will rejoin you and the others in paradise. Let this be a grave for both of us, dearest Amelia.

+ SCP-1931-DOC-C

- SCP-1931-DOC-C

Large down pillow. Object shows obvious signs of decay and heavy damage from a clawed animal.

Prosthetic paw made from leather, steel, and wood.

Solid rubber ball, heavily deteriorated, although teeth marks belonging to SCP-1931 are still visible.

Burlap sack containing the remains of the right halluxes3 of 27 human individuals of varying ages, races, and genders.

Sepia-toned photograph of a young boy holding a string tied to the tail of a levitating, decapitated cat.

Footnotes
1. Presumed to be in the possession of SCP-1884-B (see SCP-1931-DOC-B10).
2. Likely a reference to performer David Rosenfeld, currently designated SCP-████.
3. The innermost toe of the foot, or the 'big toe'.

« SCP-1930 | SCP-1931 | SCP-1932 »


SCP-1932-1

Item #: SCP-1932
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1932 is temporarily contained on-site until a more permanent method of containment is found. As components of SCP-1932 do not exhibit anomalous effects when removed, even if reattached, relocation of SCP-1932 is not considered feasible at this time. Temporary containment measures consist of standard, 3 metre high, construction area fencing around the perimeter of SCP-1932. The area should be patrolled by no fewer than 3 guards at any one time, under the cover of construction workers.
Due to the anomalous effects of SCP-1932, it is currently believed highly unlikely that these containment measures will fail; however, the urban location of SCP-1932 makes an off-site, permanent containment considerably more desirable.
Update: As of the events of ██/██/2013, designated Incident-1932-α, all exploration of SCP-1932 is suspended. See Addendum 1932-b.
Description: SCP-1932 is a set of playground equipment located in the London borough of ██████, in a small open grassy area. It consists of three main pieces, designated SCP-1932-1 through -3.
SCP-1932-1 is the largest piece of equipment, and comprises two wooden towers approximately 2.5 metres in height, connected by a bridge composed of wooden slats laid across a base of iron chains. A chute 3 metres in length extends from one of the towers. SCP-1932-2 is a set of 'monkey bars': a wooden frame 5 metres in length and 1 metre in width, with regularly-spaced metal hoops for swinging along. SCP-1932-3 is a pair of wooden swings suspended from a wooden frame by rope. For a more detailed description, and photographs of all equipment, see Document-1932-5.
SCP-1932's anomalous effects present themselves when any of the structures are interacted with by persons under the age of 16, who universally find the play equipment much more intimidating than it is in actuality. The perceived safety and desirability of the equipment is in direct proportion to the age of the perceiver: persons approaching the age of 16 view it with only a little suspicion, and younger children experience extreme terror when observing SCP-1932. These effects extend to moving and static images of the equipment, although with diminished effect. See Test 1932-A through -H for interview logs and test results.
SCP-1932 shows signs of disrepair consistent with █ months of disuse, such as small amounts of lichen on its wooden components and rust on its metal parts, but despite this all components were proven to be in complete working order and safe for use when tested by Foundation personnel.
Addendum 1932-a: Thorough investigation of material samples taken SCP-1932 have revealed that all of its surfaces present above the ground are coated in a thin layer of an unidentified substance, in patterns which suggest it is the remnants of a liquid applied to the equipment which has since dried. This substance consists primarily (82%) of urea, with the remainder taken up by a variety of unidentified biochemicals. Testing on this substance is scheduled to begin on 18/03/201█.
Addendum 1932-b: Incident 1932-α
Exploratory testing was authorised for ██/██/2013 using D-8413 as a test subject, supervised by Researcher Grant. D-8413 was chosen for the genetic conditions he is afflicted with, which have given him an approximated mental age of 6 years, and for his tractability and obedience. Previous testing (see Test 1932-G for details) determined that he was affected by SCP-1932's effects. D-8413 is equipped with a two-way communication headset.

D-8413: Where are we going?
Researcher Grant: We're going to a play park.
D-8413: Can I play?
Researcher Grant: There's just a couple of small things we want you to do first, and then you can play as much as you like.
D-8413 is led through the perimeter and towards SCP-1932. He appears unsettled by SCP-1932 and requires a reasonable amount of convincing to climb up on to SCP-1932-1. He remarks upon the height of it, and how long it will take him to get to the top. It takes him 17 seconds to reach the first platform of SCP-1932-1.
D-8413: (shouting) Wow, that took a long time! You guys are so far down! It's really cold up here!
Note: ambient air temperature is 18°C.
Researcher Grant: You don't need to shout. We can hear you through the headset. Well done for climbing all the way up! I'm going to pass you up a tape measure; I want you to hold on it, and then tell me what the number says. Okay?
D-8413: (still shouting) How will you get it - oh. Okay. Um… the little red number says… a '2', and then a '3', then a '8'.
Researcher Grant: They're all red? Not just the 2?
D-8413: They're all red.
Note: this appears to indicate that the platform of SCP-1932-1 is 238 metres in height.
D-8413: Can I come down now? It's really scary up here. It really smells. And there's all this sticky greeny brown stuff.
Researcher Grant: Not just yet. Can you cross over the bridge to the other platform, please?
D-8413: The bridge? It's really broken. All the bits of wood are missing.
Researcher Grant: It's definitely safe, D-8413. Please cross.
D-8413 begins to very slowly cross the bridge. At approximately a third of the way across the bridge, he stops, and looks nervously over his shoulder.
D-8413: I don't like this. I'm going to crawl. It's safer.
D-8413 gets on to his hands and knees. Halfway across the bridge, he stops.
D-8413: Stop shaking the bridge, you guys. It's not funny. It's scary.
Researcher Grant: We are not shaking the bridge, D-8413. You are completely safe. Please continue to the other side.
D-8413 does not respond, and starts rocking from side to side, making the bridge shake slightly.
Researcher Grant: D-8413?
D-8413 does not respond.
Researcher Grant: D-8413, please respond. You may return back across the bridge, if you like.
D-8413 still does not respond, and resumes rocking faster and faster, until the motion is sufficient for him to fall off the bridge on to the sandy floor beneath. His body impacts the floor with a much greater force than expected. Testing confirms that D-8413 is deceased, and cause of death is determined to be blunt force trauma consistent with a fall from over 200 metres in height.

« SCP-1931 | SCP-1932 | SCP-1933 »


Item #: SCP-1933
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1933 is to be kept in a standard low-security cell equipped with basic furnishings. It is to be provided with 2 liters of Irish whiskey, 500 milliliters of double cream (no less than 48% fat content), 25 grams of powdered sugar, and 20 milliliters of refined vegetable oil, on a daily basis.
As SCP-1933 is unwilling to engage in basic hygiene, it is to be forcibly stripped and showered by Level 3 personnel on a weekly basis, and its beard shaved and nails clipped on a monthly basis. Its soiled clothing is to be considered highly flammable, and is to be incinerated as a fire hazard.
Description: SCP-1933 is an obese, middle-aged Caucasian male in a constant state of moderate to severe alcohol intoxication. SCP-1933's bodily fluids (including both intracellular and extracellular fluids) consist entirely of a substance identical in composition to the alcoholic beverage known as Irish cream. This substance adequately fulfills the functions of the fluids it replaces in SCP-1933's tissues, despite the fact that it renders normal biochemical processes essential to life impossible. Foundation scientists have been unable to determine how it manages this.
SCP-1933 subsists on a diet of cream, Irish whiskey, sugar, and refined vegetable oil – the basic ingredients of most commercially produced varieties of Irish cream. It prefers to supplement its diet with small amounts of various herbs and "flavourings" (usually coffee), but these are not essential to its survival. It is incapable of digesting anything that is not a standard ingredient of Irish cream, including Irish cream which has been prepared beforehand. SCP-1933 will display effects consistent with acute malnutrition if its blood alcohol content significantly falls below or exceeds the range of 15-20% (the typical ABV of Irish cream).
SCP-1933's bodily fluids are safe for human consumption if intake is limited to 25ml or less within 24 hours. If a subject exceeds this limit, there is a significant risk that all their bodily fluids will be transformed into Irish cream. This substance does not fulfill the functions of the fluids it replaces (as it does in SCP-1933); as such, it is instantly fatal. The probability that a subject's bodily fluids will be transformed into Irish cream increases by approximately 5% for each additional ml of SCP-1933's bodily fluids consumed. It is not known if the bodily fluids of SCP-1933's victims would have the same anomalous effects as SCP-1933's bodily fluids if they were to be consumed.
Prior to containment, SCP-1933 was chronically homeless, sleeping either on the street or in derelict buildings, wearing a Santa Claus suit at all times, stealing money with which to purchase the specific items of food and drink necessary for its survival, and collecting its bodily fluids in bottles. It would attempt to break into people's homes between 23:00 December 24 (Christmas Eve) and 05:00 December 25 (Christmas Day), and place crudely-wrapped bottles of its bodily fluids alongside other wrapped presents, with the intention that they would later be unwrapped and subsequently consumed.
SCP-1933 claims that this activity was motivated by a benevolent desire to give people presents, and refuses to acknowledge that its bodily fluids are fatal if consumed in large quantities. It has not been determined whether it is genuinely unaware and unwilling to accept that this is the case, or whether it is trying to conceal malicious intentions; however, the general consensus among Foundation staff who have studied SCP-1933 is that the former is more likely.

« SCP-1932 | SCP-1933 | SCP-1934 »


close

Info

X
Feels kind of Stuffy.
Eat more of my SCPs. Eat them all.
Also please eat some of these

Anabasis Hub Probably the greatest story involving a pair of redheaded siblings whose infighting causes the end of the world
Manna Charitable Foundation 2000 The sequel to the above, collaborationed with Dr Reach
The Stuff Industry What happens when everyone around you at work is a complete idiot and so are you, but not only does no one get fired, but you actually turn a profit? I don't know, some stuff.
When MCF and Stuff happen A fun story of incompetence

1/1934 LEVEL 1/1934
CLASSIFIED

Item #: SCP-1934
Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1934 is located in corridor 719-A in Site-19 behind a locked door specifically labeled as "SCP-1934". Corridor is to be closed off during testing.
Description: SCP-1934 refers to a phenomenon encompassing the former office of Dr. Jaime Marlowe in which the entirety of the room has become impassable. Attempts to enter the room and/or place objects over the room's threshold have been obstructed by unknown means. Physical interaction with the open doorway produces no sign of an invisible or otherwise unidentifiable object obstructing the doorway, and attempts to breach the room from above or below have been similarly impeded.
Prior to the manifestation of SCP-1934, the office contained only an empty filing cabinet and an oscillating fan, and was otherwise absent of obstruction. The office was in the process of being cleaned out when the anomaly was discovered by custodial staff returning from break.
Scans of the area show no anomalous object or behavior within or without the room, and there is no indication of any change of mass within the room with sufficient force to resist all attempts at mechanical perforation. Additionally, neither light nor sound have penetrated into the room1. Disconnecting the room from Site-19's electrical grid has had no effect in extinguishing the room's light or the oscillating fan. No further information on SCP-1934 can be detected given current technological limitations.
During testing, Dr. Marlowe unintentionally managed to bypass SCP-1934, dropping a sheet of paper which managed to slide across the floor before coming to a stop near the oscillating fan. Despite the proximity, the sheet of paper was not disturbed by the fan, potentially indicating a lack of atmosphere within the room. Follow-up attempts to slide objects have met with little success, and as of May 2014, the new objects have further obstructed the opening. The opening is located 0.8 centimeters from the ground, measuring 37 centimeters in width, 2 centimeters in height, and unknown depth.
Addendum-1: 4 weeks following the discovery of an opening, certain organic objects (including bits of fruit and saltine crackers) inserted into the room have shown no signs of decomposition or animal infestation.
Addendum-2: At 04:14 on █/██/2014, two unknown individuals dressed in Level C hazmat suits were observed inside SCP-1934. The individuals appeared to be partially sunk into the floor to their knees yet were not in any way impeded as they moved about the room. They then began interacting with unknown objects at their perceived floor-level, appearing to arrange the objects in a single row. Once placed in the row, each object appeared, revealing themselves to be mutilated human bodies. One of the individuals then noticed the security camera recording their movements, and alerted their compatriot. The two appeared to briefly panic, then moved quickly towards the door and disappeared.
Upon observation, each of the bodies appear to be identical, and each bears a strong resemblance to Dr. Marlowe. Several of the nearer bodies were missing appendages with no signs of incisions or congelation of blood. No coherent pattern could be established with regards to the mutilations. No further activity has been noted.

Footnotes
1. SCP-1934 remains illuminated by the room's pre-existing lighting

« SCP-1933 | SCP-1934 | SCP-1935 »