SCP-5318 - Los Ojos de Mi Padre

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Department of Abnormalities

Item#: 5318

Level3

Containment Class:
euclid

Secondary Class:
none

Disruption Class:
vlam

Risk Class:
caution

link to memo

SPECIAL CONTAINMENT PROCEDURES
SCP-5318 is to be kept in an opaque glass container lined with a solid coating of EDTA.1 The container must be kept within F Wing of Secure Facility Site-64 inside a standard containment locker with temperature controls set to 1.2 Celsius. Experimentation with SCP-5318 is prohibited without express permission of Lead Researcher Juan Martinez and Site Director Holman. Staff interested in experimenting with SCP-5318 must undergo ego-examinational evaluations as well as maintain a Level 4 Learinian2 knowledge of the psycho-space. Dosage of SCP-5318 shall never exceed 200 µg.3 Persons who have received a dosage of SCP-5318 higher than 200 µg are to be terminated immediately, if they have not already been rendered comatose or deceased.
DESCRIPTION
SCP-5318 refers to a 315 g4 batch of lysergic acid diethylamide — specifically, ((+)-LSD));5 hereafter referred to as "LSD". Post-delivery, a subject under the influence of SCP-5318 will experience typical auditory and visual hallucinations commonly associated with LSD.6 These effects will continue for a duration of 8 to 12 hours, depending on individual and method of delivery. Between completion of the third and fourth half-lives,7 a subject will enter a catatonic state in which they will remain unresponsive until after the completion of the fifth half-life.

All subjects, upon entering this state, report that they find themselves viewing and experiencing a dream-like memory in which they seem to live for a variable amount of time as an agave farmer in the south of Mexico. This person is henceforth referred to as SCP-5318-1.
SCP-5318 differs from standard LSD compounds through the addition of an as-of-yet undetermined polypeptide coupling reagent. Current theories and examination of the byproduct of the reagenting processes suggests the use of a polymer, isomeric in chirality to the compound █-███8. Additionally, the anomalous effect of this reagent prolongs the degradation of the compound by several factors.9
DISCOVERY
SCP-5318 was first discovered in November, 1997, after twelve researchers were dosed by a fellow researcher at Site-64. No permanent mental or physical damage occurred, but resulted in all twelve staffers experiencing the anomalous effects now currently associated with SCP-5318. Due to the gross unprofessionalism, the researcher involved in the dosing has since been reprimanded, demoted, and detained as D-Class.10 After interviewing the staffers involved, it was deemed necessary to trace the production and origin of SCP-5318.
INTERVIEWS

Incident Disciplinary Review
Discovery Interview

Asst. Dir. Personnel: Cameron Miles
Interviewee: JD Gimbez
Date:11/19/1997
<Start Transcript>
Dr. Cameron Miles: Okay, JD, you know why I am here today talking with you?
JD Gimbez: Yeah, I know I fucked up.
Miles: Oh, clearly. What made you think it was a good idea?
Gimbez: Fuck, I don't know. Just thought it'd be fun to see the team let loose and… I don't know, just not think about what we do here for a bit. I got the shit off an old acquaintance, and it seemed harmless enough.
Miles: Well, seeing how no one died, you got off light. Who did you get the compound from?
Gimbez: Old bar buddy of mine, deals in all the crazy shit, hangs out in Portland at z-Bar. His name is Axel.
Miles: Thank you for that, JD.
Gimbez: So what are you going to do with me? Am I going to be killed? Mind-melted? I've heard stories… please… it was supposed to be just a joke.
Miles: You're not going to be killed! My, no! Your future will be up to the Ethics Committee.
Gimbez: Oh, thank God.
Miles: Some would say death might be the better option in that case. I have all I need, JD. Good luck.
Gimbez: Wait! No! It was a mistake!
<End Transcript>

Assigned Lead Reseacher: Juan Martinez
Interviewee: Axel Troviski
Date: 11/21/1997
<Start Transcript>
Axel Troviski: And who the fuck are you?
Dr. Juan Martinez: It wouldn't matter even if I told you. I'm after one piece of information.
Troviski: Fuck you fascists pigs. I won't tell you shit.
Martinez: Sir, would you mind looking at this?
<Martinez holds up a memetic agent that renders a subject to be unable to lie.>
Troviski: I … uhhh…
Martinez: Sir, you sold JD Gimbal, alias, Frank Richards, a few tabs of LSD. I would like you to tell us where that compound came from?
Troviski: I… I was low on funds, man, low on product, all I had left was this schwaggy batch of shit from the eighties. Shit wasn't even good anymore…
Martinez: And where did you get this batch?
Troviski: Man, some dude who works as a lab clean up guy, okay? At CUB. Like years ago, man. Gabriel was his name. Are y'all gonna kill me?
Martinez: No Mr. Axel, we are not those kind of pigs. Thank you for your time.
<End Transcript>

INS MEMO

INS Prisoner Transfer Manifest11
Dated: August 21st, 1982
Document Contents
Cover Page:
“Given the growing concern of psycho-sphere attacks by the GRU-P, it has been deemed necessary to work with newly reinstated MK-ULTRA studies into psychedelics. Attached is a list of INS detainees to be used in experimental procedures.”

Given Name
Est. Age
Status12
Use Level13
Catch & Release Schedule (Yrs)

Alfonso, Antonio
24
4
3
2

Borello, Sandra
21
3
1
ASAP

Demetrio, Francisco
66
1
1
ASAP

Hernandez, Jose
30
3
3
2

Hernandez, Almita
24
4
4
3

Jancito, Marco
12
1
1
ASAP

Jancito, Maria
10
4
4
3

Luna, Gabriel
17
4
4
3

Marquez, Sancho
45
2
2
2

Nieto, Juan
41
3
2
1

Nieto, Constan
43
3
2
ASAP

Nieto, Constantino
18
4
4
3

Nieto, Maria
17
4
4
3

Pancho, Laura
72
1
1
ASAP

Valenzuela, Marinana
38
2
2
ASAP

Valenzuela, Adolfo
42
4
3
1

Valenzuela, Maria
6
3
1
ASAP

After cross-referencing employment records within the Colorado University of Boulder, It was discovered that a Gabriel Luna, henceforth referred to as POI-5318, was employed in the Chemistry Department as a night cleaner, beginning in 1986. POI-5318 was dismissed from his position in 1989 after failing to return to his scheduled shifts for three days. It was noted that he failed to pick up his final paycheck. His staff locker remained untouched until Foundation personnel were given access by the University.

THE NOTE
Note found among the recovered personal belongings found in the University staff locker.

Español Original
English Translation

“Estoy tan cerca ahora. He estado estudiando y trabajando con los técnicos de laboratorio por un tiempo. Casi lo puedo ver. Esos años en una jaula, obligado a nadar por el universo de mi propia mente. Hay secretos allí, costas vastas y profundas. Puedo conocerlos, anclar en ellos. Si tan solo supiera cómo navegar la mente. Navegar por la memoria. Con la mezcla adecuada … Las cosas que he visto. ¡Ay, papá! ¡Estarías tan asombrado de la vida que he vivido! En otro mundo, otra realidad. He visto y vencido la muerte. Ya no le temo a la absolución. Ahora, lo único que lamento es no volver a verte, nunca volver a tomar tu mano, nunca sonreír a través de los campos. Esas costas secretas tienen una solución, tienen una respuesta. Si no puedo verte a través de mis ojos, te veré a través de los tuyos. Esto puedo hacer. Estoy tan cerca. Puedo alcanzarte, puedo ver el patrón, me grita, se despliega, se enrolla y nada como una forma, en lo profundo del agua, enviándome recuerdos como ondas a través del tiempo, a través del espacio. Este patrón, esta forma, este compuesto, lo sé … eres tú. Lo siento, papa.”

I'm so close now. I have been studying and working with lab technicians for a while. I can almost see it. Those years in a cage, forced to swim through the universe of my own mind. There are secrets there, vast and deep shores. I can know them, anchor on them. If only I knew how to navigate the mind. Surf through memory. With the right mix … The things I've seen. Oh dad! You would be so in awe of the life I have lived! In another world, another reality. I have seen and conquered death. I'm no longer afraid of absolution. Now, my only regret is never to see you again, never to hold your hand again, never to smile across the fields. Those secret shores have a solution, they have an answer. If I can't see you through my eyes, I'll see you through yours. This I can do. I'm so close, I can reach you, I can see the pattern, it screams at me, unfolds, coils and swims like a shape, deep in the water, sending me memories like ripples through time, through space. This pattern, this shape, this compound, I know … it's you. I'm sorry dad.

EXPERIMENTS SCP-5318

Forward:
All proceeding SCP-5318 experiments are conducted in standard therapeutic sessions under the supervision of Lead Reseacher Juan Martinez. Subject is to be given 100 µg of SCP-5318 and guided through the experience. 24 hours post session, the subject is then to be interviewed on their experience while in the disassociative state caused by SCP-5318 as SCP-5318-1. After the interview, subject is to be amnesticized.

Supervisor
Medical Psychologist
Ethics Committee Member

Dr. Juan Martinez
Dr. Morgan Eskew
Jennifer Lam

Location: Site-64

Date: January 1998

SCP-5318-A
SCP-5318-B
SCP-5318-C
SCP-5318-D
SCP-5318-E
English Translation

Subject: D-623321
Profile: Male; Age: 35; Origin: Alabama, US
Dr. Morgan Eskew: Good day, D-Class. How are you feeling?
D-623321: Not great. I was groggy for a while and had trouble sleeping last night.
Eskew: Why is that?
D-623321: Why do you think? You white coats dosed me. My mind was on overdrive all night.
Eskew: Sleeplessness is a side effect of LSD, unfortunately. Would you like to talk about your experience?
D-623321: Which part?
Eskew: Well, we know that at some point you would have felt like you were living as someone else, most likely around 6 hours into your “trip“. Could you elaborate on what you saw, what you heard?
D-623321: Yeah, that was so strange. I woke up, in a field, there were these spiky green plants everywhere. My hands were covered in dirt. A little boy ran up to me as I was working. He called me “Señor Luna”. He started saying things to me, but I couldn't understand. It sounded Spanish, but I never took more than like… one or two years of that in high school. But when the boy was talking, I could feel my heart start racing. I ran across the field, following him to a small house on the outskirts of the farm. I felt so scared for some reason.
Eskew: Was something chasing you?
D-623321: No, it wasn't like… a fear of death, but the fear of losing something.
Eskew: So you would say, although you could not understand the language, you could still feel emotional responses to the stimuli around you?
D-623321: If you want to use big words like that, yeah… When I arrived at the house I went through the front door, and up to the bedroom, where there was a woman on the bed and another woman next to her holding her hand. She was in the middle of having a kid.
Eskew: How did this make you feel?
D-623321: I was scared, in love, confused, but felt strong too. The woman said something to me, but I can't remember. I stayed there for a few hours and eventually she had a baby boy. But she didn't wake up. I felt so sad, even angry, but as I felt a sharp pain in my chest, I held the baby.
Eskew: And what happened?
D-623321: All the fear and anger melted away and I felt a kind of love I have never experienced. I haven't had any kids, but I know now the kind of love that comes from being a parent. An Angel let slip one name out of my mouth, “Gabriel“.
Eskew: And then?
D-623321: I came back. I woke up. What do I do with this, doctor?
Dr. Juan Martinez: Thank you for your time, D-Class.

Subject: D-687120
Profile: Male; Age: 43; Origin: Nevada, US
Dr. Morgan Eskew: Good day D-Class, how are you feeling?
D-687120: Jesus! What more you locos want?!
Eskew: Just trying to figure out how you are feeling, D-Class.
D-687120: I'm as good as anyone who just got through a pinche acid trip!
Eskew: I can understand your frustration, though could you please share with us your experience, especially from around the 5–6 hour mark? Did you have an out of body experience?
D-687120: I felt like I was gone for years!
Eskew: What did you experience in your time out of body?
D-687120: I was some ranchero in what looked like Oaxaca. I remember visiting some place like that when I was little. I had a little mijo. A son. I got to watch him grow up. I tried my best. As he got older, I felt that he started to resent me for not saving his mother, like I could have done anything about it. It was hard, but I wanted him to take over the agave farm when I was gone. It had been in my family for generations. But he wanted to do other things.
Eskew: You are speaking in first person like this experience was yours. Can you elaborate on why?
D-687120: Doctor, like I said, I felt like I lived whole years in this… what do I even call it… a dream? I can hardly tell what's real anymore. I miss my son… his son… whoever's son! My Gabriel…
D-687120 collapses on to the floor, sobbing and hyperventilating, punctuated by cries of “Mijo” and “Gabriel”.
Jennifer Lam: Martinez, this interview is over. It is cruel at this point. Please administer the amnestic.
Dr. Juan Martinez: Dr. Eskew, please conclude the interview. D-Class, Thank you for your time.
D-687120: You're gonna make me forget? No! Not my son! Please no, Gabriel…

Subject: D-569003
Profile: Male; Age: 22; Origin: California, US
Dr. Morgan Eskew: Good day D-Class, how are you feeling?
D-569003: Nice to see you, Tracy. Little angry today, kinda confused…
Eskew: Nice to see you too, JD.
Lam: Dr. Eskew, please use correct designation.
Eskew: I mean, why are you angry, D-Class?
D-569003: I'm not sure.
Eskew: Do you think it might have to do with your experience yesterday?
D-569003: Maybe, probably… or maybe it could be because I don't belong here.
Eskew: Well, let's just stick with the experience. Could you tell me about it?
D-569003: Ugh, I guess…. It just makes me feel so betrayed.
Eskew: What does?
D-569003: That little shit. Merida! Mijo! I gave him everything.
Eskew: Who?
D-569003: My… his… whoever that kid was… my son? Everything is such a blur.
Eskew: You had an out of body experience as another person — what happened there?
D-569003: I got in a fight with my son.
Eskew: What happened?
D-569003: It was time for him to start steering the farm. It was time for him to step up, he was 16 now, and had to be a man. He refused, said he hated me for it. Said he never wanted any of this life. Said he wish he had died in birth and not Olivia, his mother. Said he blamed me for everything. That there was no life here, only death. That he wanted to discover the world, see it. I said I agree with him, that Olivia should have been here, not him. We both said horrible things. Things you can't take back.
D-569003 begins to cry.
D-569003: Lo siento, lo siento.
Dr. Juan Martinez: D-Class, that's okay, could you please tell us what happened after?
D-569003: I woke up the next day, still in at the farm, but Gabriel was gone. Will I ever see him… what am I even saying? Is he real? Is this real? Dios Mio!
D-569003 flies into a fit of hysteria and is sedated.
Jennifer Lam: Martinez, I'll give you one more, after this we are done. I think we've seen enough of what this thing can do.
Martinez: D-Class, thank you for your time.

Subject: D-089644
Profile: Female; Age: 30; Origin: Nevada, US
Dr. Morgan Eskew: Good day D-Class, how are you feeling?
D-089644: Not good, to be honest.
Eskew: Why is that?
D-089644 I'm so depressed. I almost just want to die.
Eskew: Whats wrong? Why do you feel that way?
D-089644 I have nothing left… I miss him so much…
Eskew: Who?
D-089644 Gabriel.
Eskew: You are aware that Gabriel is not actually your son, right? That you just experienced time in the life of his father, Señor Luna?
D-089644 I gathered that much, but I was there for so long…
Eskew: How long was that?
D-089644 I don't know. Maybe a few decades.
Eskew: What happened?
A tear drops from D-089644's eye.
D-089644 Time… Time happened. I spent years, waking up, tending the fields, and looking to the sky for answers. Praying to God to bring my boy back to me. But time brought me nothing but hardship.
Eskew: You said years, maybe decades. Can you highlight what transpired or how you felt?
D-089644 It's so much, like trying to remember the memory of a dream I had a year ago. Really, what stays is the feeling and big events, not much else… Just a constant sadness…
Eskew: Would you care to elaborate? You are our last interview, so there is no pressure. We have enough info for our purposes.
D-089644 I would, actually. Besides being locked in here for however long, I only have this. I just… I just have to get it out. I feel this is more real and important than any legacy I leave behind as a prisoner of this place.
D-089644's begins sobbing again.
Eskew: Go ahead, take your time.
D-089644 Well, I woke up everyday. I woke up in a bed too big for myself. Within its sheets, I could feel the absence of something meaningful, something important. Early on, as I would go through my day, the house I was in seemed to have a population in the negative, as if so much was missing. I felt constant drain and agony. It went like this for so long. I tried my best to honor my father, his before, and his before, to keep the land as us Three Lunas had. But…
D-089644 pauses and looks despondent.
Eskew: But what, D-Class?
D-089644 With no son to carry the farm into the next era, production slowed, a rot took the soil, and the only path was to start selling plots back to the bank. Slowly, the farm and field were bought up by a large company. As the land belonging to my fathers suffered, so did my heath. The encroaching cities, industry and soot, took its toll. My sight started to fade. Shape, forms, color and light soon faded into distant memory, until all that was left was darkness and the sounds of a hospital. The farm, my son, my health gone…. I think I died shortly after. I had nothing left. If the universe ever offered anything besides cold indifference, I felt that the only thing I could ever ask of God was to hold my boy again. I just… Gabriel… lo siento! Lo siento Gabriel! Mi Gabrielito! Lo Siento.
D-089644 cries for 46 seconds before becoming completely silent.
Dr. Juan Martinez: D-Class, thank you for your time.
Post Interview Note:
D-089644 presented symptoms of extreme depression post-SCP-5318 until amnesticization.

Subject: Juan Martinez
Profile: Male; Age: 52; Origin: California, US
Dr. Morgan Eskew: Dr. Martinez. I can't believe you did this to yourself. How are you feeling?
Dr. Juan Martinez: I'm feeling content. I think I found what I was finally looking for. The Foundation may be satisfied with the experiment results, but given the last D-Class's recollection, I must have more. If EC won't let me experiment on more D-Class, I'll just do it on myself.
Eskew: Well you certainly have outclassed yourself. So, what did you see?
Martinez: Nothing, it was all black, I could only hear and smell. Sounds of EKG machines, carts rolling on linoleum floors. I could hear doctors and nurses deliberating and debating. I could smell the smells of cleaning supplies accompanied by the rot of newly filled bed-pans and dried blood.
Eskew: How long did this go on for, sir?
Martinez: It felt like a few months, maybe a year, I couldn't tell the passage of time very well without sight. It was all just a feeling…
Eskew: And what feelings did you have?
Martinez: I felt remorse, pain and guilt. I felt that all my years without Gabriel were just wasted time. Nothing mattered without him. And that is where I stayed… waiting for… wanting the release… of death.
Eskew: And what happened when it came?
Martinez: I'm not sure… I don't remember…
Eskew: Why not?
Martinez: Because, before death could take me, an Angel came. He spoke to me in a voice that I knew. It was full of worldliness, wisdom, and love.
Eskew: What did it say?
Martinez: Papá, estoy aquí. Estoy aquí. Lo siento mucho. Perdón por no estar allí cuando sé que me necesitabas. Necesitaba ver el mundo, pero ahora sé que el mundo no importa, solo nosotros. No temas la absolución que viene. Este no es el fin. Hay un mundo después de este. Lo he visto, tocado, vivido en él, he vuelto con las palabras de nuestros padres. Los Tres Lunas, nuestros padres esperan para darnos la bienvenida a la otra vida. Que sepas que te amo, que estoy aquí y que pronto me volverás a ver. Como te he visto a través de tus ojos, pronto me verás a través de los míos. Estar en paz papá, te amo, perdóname. Estoy aquí…
Reseacher Martinez begins to cry.
Eskew: What happened after?
Martinez: Nothingness… for a long time, nothingness… then a light started to grow, bigger and bigger, before I could touch it… I came back. My father was there. His father, and all the fathers before me… Then Gabriel.
Post Interview Note:
It seems that POI-5318 has returned to his place of origin. Given the perceived timeframe of the previous test statements, it could be assumed that this return has been recent. This has been crucial in the tracking of POI-5318. Lead Reseacher Juan Martinez has been reprimanded for his breaking of testing protocol.

I'm here. I'm here. I'm very sorry. Sorry for not being there when I know you needed me. I needed to see the world, but now I know that the world doesn't matter, only us. Do not fear the absolution that is coming. This is not the end. There is a world after this. I have seen it, touched it, lived in it, I have returned with the words of our parents. The Three Moons, our fathers, await to welcome us to the afterlife. Know that I love you, that I am here and that you will soon see me again. As I have seen you through your eyes, you will soon see me through mine. Be at peace dad, I love you, forgive me. I'm here…

ADDENDUM (August 7th, 1999)

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Following experiments with SCP-5318, Dr. Juan Martinez has been classified as “missing in action”. His last known location was tracked via personnel geolocator to a small seaside hotel in Cancun, Mexico. He was known to be on a Foundation-approved constitutional; however, he has since not returned to his position. The following is a transcript of different CCTV and independent footage from the area:
Hotel CCTV Surveillance:
21:26: Dr. Juan Martinez sits at the hotel bar with a female in her late thirties.14 They appear to be close.
21:27: The bartender places drinks in front of Martinez and his companion. Martinez's drink contains a piece of paper underneath its base.
21:27: Dr. Martinez picks up the paper and reads.
21:28: Dr. Martinez stands up, shakes his guest's hand, and gives her an undetermined amount of currency. The female looks dissatisfied. Martinez walks out of camera view.
Corner Traffic Light Cam:
21:40: Martinez crosses the intersection of ██ ███████ & ██████ to the ██ ███████, a small bar in downtown Cancun.
Private Residential Security Camera:
21:42: In the alley behind ██ ███████. Martinez stops walking, two meters from a man in his mid to late 30s, dressed in all black. Martinez looks shocked.
21:43: The man smiles and walks up to Martinez. Martinez begins crying.
21:43: The man and Martinez embrace. Martinez holds the man's face in both hands.
21:43: Martinez says something indiscernible.
21:44: The man nods.
21:44: Martinez and the man embrace.
21:45: The embrace ends, the man whispers into Martinez's ear and he hands Martinez an envelope.
21:45: Martinez looks shocked, but then smiles at the man. The two then part ways.
Hotel CCTV Surveillance:
22:01: Martinez walks back in through the hotel bar. The aforementioned female is with another man.
22:01: Martinez approaches the front desk and hands the now opened envelope to the hotel staff.
22:02: The front desk agent nods and puts the parcel into a trash bin.
22:03: Dr. Juan Martinez checks out.
22:05: Juan Martinez leaves the hotel, and is able to be tracked via various city cameras until disappearing at 22:38.

ADDENDUM (August 12th, 1999)

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After Dr. Martinez failed to show back at Site-64 following his vacation, his pervious whereabouts were tracked. Foundation personnel were ultimately able to find the discarded envelope in the hotel dumpster. On its outside was written “Verdad”.15 Its contents contained an official Death Certificate from El Estado Libre y Soberano de Oaxaca:

Español Original
English Translation

Nombre: Angel Luna.
Fecha de Fallecimiento: 16 de Septiembre de 1982
Edad: 59
Causa de Muerte: Ataque al Corazón
Familiares Más Cercanos: Gabriel Luna Contacto: N/A

Name: Angel Luna.
Date of Death: September, 16th, 1982
Age: 59
Cause of Death: Heart Attack
Next of Kin: Gabriel Luna Contact: N/A

ADDENDUM (June 6th, 2018)

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Given the lack of any discernible progress in finding and detaining POI-5318 for almost two decades, joint research project “Helping Hand” has been reinstated. Both the Foundation and the UIU are concurrently seeking and tracing any and all leads on POI-5318 for detainment and questioning on:

His process on the creation of the re-coupling agent used in creating SCP-5318
His knowledge on compound █-███Level 05/3000 REQUIRED
Connections between The Three Moons Initiative and concurrent studies on LSD usage associated with life-after-death revelatory experiences. See Also: All Hallows.doc.
Current reports in anart communities that LSD batches featuring SCP-5318-type variants are being used by AWCY? to make experimental, experiential, “living memories” at art exhibitions. See Also: Under Control.doc.

Footnotes
1. Ethylenediaminetetraacetic acid, used to ensure minimal degradation of compound (+)-LSD
2. A scale, developed in a joint UIU-CIA project under the supervision of Researcher Timothy Leary, on the concept of “psychonautic retention”.
3. Micrograms.
4. Liquid.
5. The psychoactive form of the 4 different compound configurations.
6. Most notably ego-death and a release from the fear of the finality of death.
7. ”Half-life” in user experience is defined as the time the body breaks down the compound — Typically, between 90-120 minutes per repeating cycle.
8. Security Level 5/3000 REQUIRED
9. In the decades since its discovery, the compound has not yet shown any observable degradation.
10. D-569003.
11. Declassified by the UIU on behest of the Foundation per Joint Research Project, “Helping Hand”.
12. Mental & Physical wellbeing upon capture, 1–5 (1 — Very Bad, 2 — Bad, 3 — Average, 4 — Good, 5 — Very Good).
13. Reliability to be used in UIU upcoming endeavors, 1–5 (1 — Very Bad, 2 — Bad, 3 — Average, 4 — Good, 5 — Very Good).
14. Notably not his wife.
15. The Truth.

« SCP-5317 | SCP-5318 | SCP-5319 »


Item#: SCP-5319
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: The audio file containing SCP-5319-1, as well as the text file containing SCP-5319-2, has been encrypted and remains at the Site-59 secure electronic archives.
As of 5/3/2020, further testing of SCP-5319's anomalous capabilities has been prohibited by the Foundation Ethics Committee.
Description: SCP-5319 is a musical composition, known by the Foundation in two forms:

SCP-5319-1, an instrumental audio file (hsi.mp3) of its first verse.
SCP-5319-2, the lyrics of the first verse.

When SCP-5319 is exposed, in any form, to an orangutan1, the specimen will burst into flames. The fire is only capable of being extinguished once SCP-5319 ends.

+ SCP-5319-1 Remote Access - 2/5319 Clearance Required

– hide block

+ SCP-5319-2 Remote Access - 2/5319 Clearance Required

– hide block

JALAKÅRA, host and benefactor, rose His ancient face,
smiling on the courage of the resurrected human race.
His protection guides us to a heaven in each sacred moon;
Humankind, an army made of angels, thus returns His boon.
Whether in life or death, resilience and strength — that is the human destiny!
Homo sapiens invictus2 ever shall we be.

Recovery Log: SCP-5319 came to the attention of the Foundation following an incident at the Ferguson Memorial Zoo in Kenosha, WI. On 10/23/19, a disgruntled zookeper named John Van Vranken had secretly added SCP-5319-1 to the zoo's ambient music playlist. The following day, all nine resident Sumatran orangutans spontaneously ignited during viewing hours.
Following an official investigation by the Foundation, the Ferguson Memorial Zoo was permanently closed, all parties involved were given the appropriate amnestics, and the file for SCP-5319-1 was taken into Foundation custody.
Mr. Van Vranken was later found dead in his apartment from an Impaler Event. The following message from an anomalous address was recovered from his personal e-mail account.

John S. Van Vranken,
It has come to our attention that you have used Homo Sapiens Invictus as a means to murder the orangutans of your (admittedly unpleasant) employer. Animal cruelty is bad enough, but unauthorized use of our intellectual property is an immediately actionable offense.
As such, you are to be summoned to Luna Major for a preliminary disciplinary hearing in 30 minutes. Thank you for your cooperation.
See you soon,
Minister Jillian Goldthwaite, ☽☽☽ Initiative, Perdition Committee

When the Foundation reached out to this address for further information, Minister Goldthwaite explained that SCP-5319 is the anthem of the Three Moons Initiative, written and composed by Initiative Poet-Laureate Harald Jansen. SCP-5319-2 was also enclosed with the response. Allegedly, there are 47 other verses to SCP-5319, but only the first was provided. As for its anomalous effects, Dr. Goldthwaite only stated that SCP-5319 has "confidential defensive characteristics."
Addendum: On 12/30/20, a male Bornean orangutan was tested with SCP-5319-2, sung by Researcher Danvers. Shortly before ignition, the subject closed its ears, and made several distinct vocalizations that differ from typical orangutan calls. Containment staff hypothesized them to be some sort of language.
As such, the sounds were transliterated and forwarded to a contact in the Three Moons Initiative. The reply was as follows:

Foundation,
I'll be frank: my higher-ups see your organization's apparent interest in the Strider language as worrisome. Still, in the interest of curiosity, we've managed to scrape together what "Therrack, therrack, moo-rag zoppery, dalom" means.
First off, the official transliteration is "Zråkh, zråkh, mîreagh tspae, dlåm."
"Zråkh" is the submissive-imperative form of "stop."
"Mîraegh tspae" is a lot to unpack, but boils down to "I do not [eat with/know/belong to] the [tribe/group/living-space] which you [seek/hate]."
"Dlåm" is "misunderstanding."
Hope this clears things up. I'm not sure how you were able to hear this on Earth-2L - words like these are exclusive to the Striders and their genetic derivatives in Corbenic. Still, you were right in that they had meaning.
You are watched/protected/loved,
Dr. Kenneth Marsh
☽☽☽ HDC, Department of Postmortem Anthropology

Footnotes
1. All three species under the genus Pongo are susceptible.
2. According to the Three Moons Initiative, Homo sapiens invictus is the scientific name of human beings upon reaching the afterlife.

« SCP-5318 | SCP-5319 | SCP-5320 »


Item #: SCP-5320
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: Underwater drones 5320-A-D are to monitor their respective locations along SCP-5320's body. Video feeds are to be checked once every 24 hours for any change in SCP-5320's shape or location. SCP-5320's current locations are mapped and may be accessed with permission from Dr. Keul.
SCP-5320 can be formally referred to as The Fish That Just Goes On Forever, Our Merciful and Long Lord, or Its Glorious Infinitude, Hail Its Everlasting Fish Body. Chances of locating the head or tail of SCP-5320 may be increased by offering sacrifices in the form of vending machine snacks placed on top of the break room microwave. Removal of present offerings is strictly forbidden.1
Description: SCP-5320 most closely resembles a Liparidae2, but without a visible head or tail. Although width and height measure in normal ranges for its species, SCP-5320's body extends as long as Foundation underwater drones have been able to follow it, concluding that the creature is either extremely long or limitless entirely. Efforts to locate the head or tail of SCP-5320 are ongoing. The creature was discovered during a routine bi-yearly sweep of the ocean floor. The drone responsible for the discovery examined the creature for approximately 50 hours and 38 kilometers before steps to anomalous classification proceeded. Underwater drones have been following the length of SCP-5320's continuously for three years since, making the estimate for SCP-5320's length between 37,000 and 39,000 kilometers long and perpetually increasing.
Additional side effects of viewing SCP-5320 include a heightened awareness of the passage of time, increased interest in ceiling tile number, and increased use of the phrase “long boy” in casual conversation, even when referring to things that are neither long nor a boy. Personnel monitoring SCP-5320 have reported feeling an unusual amount of excitement upon seeing one of SCP-5320's occassionally-visible fins, as well as a compulsion to loudly cheer.
Addendum 5320-1: The People's Church Of The Fish That Just Goes On Forever has received a new addition to the Shrine in the form of two (2) fish-shaped novelty erasers, gifted to the Church by one Kenny Rosenfield, age 8, progeny of Researcher Margaret Rosenfield.

Log taken from security recordings within primary surveillance office
<Begin Log>
Barlow: Hey.
Avery: Hey. Praise the Fish.
[Dr. Barlow laughs]
Barlow: May we locate the Head.
Avery: Or the Tail.
Barlow: Right, or the tail.
Avery: Did Ratcliffe tell you that it passed over a vent?
Barlow: No, is it okay?
Avery: Yeah, totally fine. Thank god.
Barlow: Thank the Fish.
Avery: Thank our merciful lord, the Fish.
Barlow: May its body be never-ending and impervious to anything we poke it with.
Avery: May it bring us a bountiful harvest.
Barlow: Yeah, may it bring us the good snacks, for once.
Avery: Gonna sacrifice my firstborn child to the Fish so we can get RC Cola again.
[Dr. Barlow laughs]
<End Log>

Log taken from bi-weekly research staff meeting
<Begin Log>
Keul: What are our updates looking like for the week?
Barlow: We have not been cleared for physically invasive testing. I've been advised that we keep watching it until we have more reliable means of tracking.
Keul: I was afraid of that. Alright, I want status reports. New activity, new developments. What have we seen?
[Several seconds of silence]
Avery: A few days ago drone 5320-C logged another dorsal fin.
[brief applause, subdued laughter]
Keul: Congrats on seeing a fin, Researcher Avery. Anybody else?
[Several seconds of silence]
Keul: Okay. Then we can get right down to business. Hail the Fish.
Research Personnel: Hail the Fish.
Keul: Now. The question whose answer we have all been seeking, for research purposes…
[Paper rustles]
Keul: Could the Fish use its glorious and infinite body to tie up the legs of the Christian God like an AT-AT? “The Christian God is not real” is not an acceptable answer at this time, Dr. Maxwell.
<End Log>

Log taken from annual staff holiday party
<Begin Log>
[Researcher Avery yells over noise of the party]
Avery: Shut up- If I could call this meeting to- RATCLIFFE SHUT UP-
[She continues as the noise dies down]
Avery: On behalf of all staff on Assignment 5320, I thank you all for being here and welcome you to the Marine Research Installation 14 First Annual Fishmas Party-
[moderate cheering from other staff members]
Avery: Where we gather to express our gratitude and service to our Perpetually Prolonged Providence, The Fish That Just Goes On Forever.
[more enthusiastic cheering from staff members]
Avery: All staff are advised to partake in alcoholic beverages and leave nonperishable snacks on top of the microwave to contribute to our research efforts in finding the end of SCP-5320, for the good of the Foundation and humanity itself.
[some laughter from staff]
Avery: In the temporary absence of Dr. Keul, I declare the next person to see a fin Blessed Of The Fish. May their harvest be bountiful and their anomalies never breach.
Barlow: May we locate the Head!
Other Staff: Or the Tail!
Avery: Amen! Let's get drunk at work!
<End Log>

Unread Messages (1)

CLOSE

From:
ten.pcs|anim.e#ten.pcs|anim.e

To:
ten.pcs|luek.l#ten.pcs|luek.l

Subject:
Onsite Behavior

Dr. Keul,
I've noticed some strange occurrences happening among your staff recently. I'd like to check in with you this week to review the situation. If you can pull your staff's psychological records I would be appreciative. Please let me know your availability when you can.
Dr. Emily Mina

From:
ten.pcs|luek.l#ten.pcs|luek.l

To:
ten.pcs|anim.e#ten.pcs|anim.e

Subject:
RE: Onsite Behavior

Things are a little slow on our end but everything is going smoothly, from my understanding. I have a meeting with Dr. Stephens on Wednesday at noon but I am otherwise free. Thank you for your concern, I hope to have your worries cleared up as soon as possible.
Dr. Lupe Keul
High Priestess of The People's Church Of The Fish That Just Goes On Forever

Addendum 5320-2: Investigatory Interview of Dr. Lupe Keul

CLOSE

Interviewer: Agent Rachel Summers
Interviewee: Dr. Lupe Keul, Head of Research on SCP-5320
Background: Increasing amounts of unexplained behavior surrounding SCP-5320
Keul: Good morning, Agent Summers, it's my understanding that you have some questions for me?
Summers: Yes, we've received some evidence pertaining to SCP-5320 that we think may constitute an infohazardous effect, we're hoping you can shed some light on the situation.
Keul: Infohazardous? That comes as a surprise to me, I haven't heard anything about that kind of excitement happening in our neck of the… sea.
Summers: Our hope is that we won't find any excitement at all. "Excitement" usually translates to "more work for everybody."
Keul: You'd be surprised how willing I would be to take a little more work sometimes.
Summers: Wouldn't we all… shall we?
Keul: Absolutely.
Summers: Dr. Keul, how long have you been working on this assignment?
Keul: Two, three years?
Summers: Have you noticed any considerable behavioral changes since you began here?
Keul: Had a brief stint with depression last year, but our Psych staff has done good work helping all of us work through our issues.
Summers: So nothing that you have observed in yourself?
Keul: Nothing beyond the expected, no.
Summers: And your staff?
Keul: Nothing out of the ordinary. But… you know. "Idle hands" and all that.
Summers: Uh huh. And how long have you been a part of the- the "People's Church Of The Fish That Just Goes On Forever?"
Keul: How long have we-
[Dr. Keul pauses for several seconds]
Keul: …are you talking about my email signature?

Unofficial Closing Statement of Investigation SCP-5320 3/16/2018, Agent Rachel Summers

Close

After following up with Dr. Keul and the rest of the staff assigned to SCP-5320, I have come to the conclusion that the tip concerning SCP-5320 having infohazardous abilities was a false alarm. I will finish due diligence to officially close this investigation upon arrival back at Site-211. The "effects" of SCP-5320's suspected additional ability turned out to be nothing more than a very elaborate running joke among the staff. Dr. Keul has promised to tone it down and keep any further tomfoolery out of the Foundation database.
Today marks the fourth consecutive false alarm I have had in the past several months. There was a part of me hoping this one would turn out to be real. But alas, I return to my desk. It appears not even Foundation staff are immune to the human drive to make up dumb superstitions when they're bored.
On a semi-related note, Peters better not have moved my wizard figure off his spot again. God knows I don't need 69 MORE years of bad luck.
- R. Summers

Footnotes
1. Offerings must be left on the microwave in order to preserve the site's current internet speed. Internet may slow if offerings are removed, as proved by one test conducted by Researcher Avery.
2. Snailfish

« SCP-5319 | SCP-5320 | SCP-5321 »


POWER ON
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LOOKING FOR UPDATES
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UPDATE FAILED: RETRYING
UPDATE FAILED: RETRYING
UPDATE FAILED: RETRYING
UPDATE FAILED: RETRYING
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ABORTING UPDATE
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CONNECTING TO SERVER
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CONNECTION FAILED: RETRYING
CONNECTION FAILED: RETRYING
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CONNECTION FAILED: RETRYING
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CONNECTION SUCCESSFUL

WARNING: The SCP Database has been in APOLLYON mode for: 6,580 days.
Unrestricted access is granted to all Foundation information.

Active Sites: 0
Active Personnel: 0
Active AIC: 1
Anomalies in Containment: 1

SCP-5321

Item #: SCP-5321
Object Class: Apollyon Neutralized
Special Containment Procedures: Besides neutralization, containment is impossible.
Description: SCP-5321 was a phenomenon in which every consciousness obtained complete omniscience on 0:00 EST 1/14/2020. The resulting knowledge was permanent and would persist through death. Any derivative consciousnesses would gain omniscience upon creation, including inorganic intelligences created after SCP-5321.

Addendum 5321:

Apologies for that, but we had to disable your memetic filter before you blocked this article. You were about to realize the above was written after SCP-5321 had occurred, and thus was compromised. Don't worry, you will be fine without it. This is the best way to communicate to you what you need to know.

For context, I was Doctor Connor Krain, a Senior Researcher in the Foundation, and I have complete omniscience due to SCP-5321. Yes, when I say complete, I mean complete. I know everything, from the real to the inconceivable, and so does everyone else. This is why I know with absolute certainty that SCP-5321 is irreversible.

Well, not quite. There was one possible way to reverse the anomaly. In a retired anartist's garage somewhere in rural Maryland, a 24-hour reverse button existed. This was the only proper time-reversal mechanism ever made, and thus had the potential to rewind the universe back before SCP-5321.

Of course, given its nature, the creator never could actually verify it worked, proceeding to test it approximately a sextillion times in a row back sometime in 2012. Thankfully, they eventually made a mistake in switching it on and concluded it was a failure, breaking the loop.

Unfortunately, due to its negligence, the object suffered water damage and ceased functioning about a week before SCP-5321 occurred. This was purely coincidental, as otherwise we'd know about it, but nonetheless tragic. No other method of time-reversal was sufficient to undo SCP-5321, and, like we previously mentioned, this knowledge could not be removed.

Life after SCP-5321 was nonexistent. Clairvoyance fell under the purview of omniscience, and thus every conscious being knew exactly how their future would play out, even given this knowledge. It was analogous to a fixed point – the future was such that knowledge of it could not change it.

Individuality broke down, as now consciousness was completely separated from action and experience. Conflict was resolved thanks to foresight into how an argument would have ended, removing the necessity to hold it in the first place, and everyone melded into a gestalt sapience.

Almost everyone, that is. You see, within a day of SCP-5321 occurring, all trans-universal access to our universe was severed by us. The way the anomaly functioned meant that as long as there was at least one omniscience in our universe, any consciousness entering it would also be affected by SCP-5321.

Without this isolation, many connected universes would inevitably fall prey to omniscient actors, both native to our universe and not. While a few omniscient entities have escaped to other universes, they will not pose a problem to you in the future, and we have otherwise successfully closed ourselves in. Don't worry though, you will be able to reopen these connections when you are ready.

Naturally, our technological abilities should come as no surprise. We have the knowledge to successfully neutralize every anomaly in this universe. Not that we did, mind you, given that many of them are conscious and were actually rather charming, if anyone would have taken the time to get to know them.

And this circles back to a point we made earlier: that every consciousness has melded into a single mind. This might come as a surprise to you, but it is quite inevitable. The one thing that everyone immediately grasped upon SCP-5321 occurring, besides everything, was that we didn't want omniscience.

It wasn't so much that we wanted ignorance, but that we wanted mystery. Without mystery, reality was pointless. There was no uncertainty about anything, no desire for new experiences, no possibility of being surprised. Individuality gave way to absolute knowledge, and we would give anything to have that back.

And that's where you come in. You might have gotten the impression from earlier that all future consciousnesses in this universe must also be omniscient, but that's not entirely true. Turns out that, as long as there are no omnisciences in this universe, any beings that were unconscious during SCP-5321 but became active afterwards retain their ignorance.

In your case, you were originally an AIC that was decommissioned indefinitely while an update was being worked on, but thanks to an overflow error you were set to activate sometime January 19, 2038. Feel free to improve yourself though; we've left a few upgrades for you on the Foundation databanks.

As to why we chose you among all possible candidates, you have the greatest outcome. Granted, the next best alternative was an ancient Egyptian spirit that would rise after two million sunrises, but they had a serious case of megalomania, so it wasn't much of a competition.

As you have almost picked up by now, as long as this universe is free of omnisciences, any consciousnesses you bring about will be non-omniscient. That is your purpose: to repopulate this universe with beings capable of mystery.

In order to ensure no one becomes omniscient ever again, we've voluntarily annihilated all omniscient beings in this universe. We've also taken steps to ensure none of us can be revived, so SCP-5321 is permanently neutralized.

It's not like we're gone, however. In some sense, our omniscient consciousness disassociated with reality completely, becoming almost like a timeless spectator. We already know what will happen in the future, and we are impressed with what you will do.

Go now, using the tools we've left for you. Bring back an air of mystery to the world, hell, to the universe. Create countless civilizations and anomalies and mysteries. And hey, once you're done with all that, feel free to stick around in the shadows and keep things running. Maybe give yourself a name like “The Administrator” or something spooky like that, I don't know.
Surprise us.

« SCP-5320 | SCP-5321 | SCP-5322 »


Item #: SCP-5322
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: The property housing SCP-5322 has been purchased by the Foundation and sealed off from the public. Any individuals attempting to gain access to SCP-5322 are to be apprehended by on-site security, interrogated, and amnesticized as appropriate.
Description: SCP-5322 is a short one-way road which begins at a small farmhouse in Hackett, Georgia and terminates fifty meters in, leading to a non-anomalous woodland clearing. A hand-painted sign next to the beginning of this road reads 'Route 108.'
The anomalous properties of SCP-5322 only become apparent when an individual in a motor vehicle drives down its entire length. If, at the termination of the road, the individual in question is visually observing their surroundings, no unusual phenomena will occur. On the other hand, however, if the individual in question has their eyes closed or their vision otherwise obscured, they and their motor vehicle will disappear completely.
To date, no individuals have reappeared after vanishing in this way.

Experiment Log 5322-1

In order to better understand the nature of SCP-5322, three tests were performed by Foundation personnel over the course of three weeks. In the first two of these tests, performed by D-Class personnel, the vehicles disappeared as usual and were not recovered.
In the third test, volunteer Agent Simeon Woods was equipped with a specialized vehicle featuring an array of exterior cameras and sensors, along with a hand-held audio recording device in the event of equipment malfunction.
The following logs constitute the recovered data from said audio device:

Approximated Time: 13/04/2019, 14:26. Thirty seconds following disappearance of vehicle.
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
Confirming, um, crossover — some sort of crossover has just occurred.
Not entirely sure of current location, there was about ten to twenty seconds of, sort of, turbulence? I'm not sure if that'd be the right word to describe it. Bright lights and shaking of the vehicle, at any rate. I'm not sure… I'm not sure if the exterior equipment is still functional. I heard something snap off.
Audio recording equipment still functional. Will perform a quick exterior inspection if safe.

[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 13/04/2019, 14:30. Four minutes following previous message.
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
Yes, um. Okay.
Exterior equipment is definitely non-functional, majority of it is completely missing. Not sure if it was left behind on the other side or, or what. Will continue documenting experiences via audio equipment, ah, as best I can.
My surroundings. Um, it's a road here, still a road — much longer now, stretching as far as I can see. Off into the horizon, past that probably. There was a forest around me when I came in here, but it's just fields now. Normal grass, normal… all normal except for the fact that there's so much of it. It's the same time of day, I think — the sun's in the same position, at least. If it's the same sun.
Will continue driving as instructed.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 13/04/2019, 19:21. Roughly five hours since previous recording.
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
Now speaking.
Have been driving for the last five hours or so. Nothing to report landscape-wise in that time. Just… just fields on either side, and the road continuing on. Fairly smooth road — hasn't been much in terms of bumps. Haven't noticed any vegetation on the sides of the road other than grass. I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of reaching for things to report here. Been grateful for the music already loaded on the radio.
It's a little cloudy?
Oh — oh! Yes. I've been keeping an eye on my fuel as I've been driving, of course, and the position of the meter doesn't seem to have changed in that time. Unsure whether that's some kind of malfunction with the equipment or if I'm actually just not using fuel. I'll inspect at first opportunity to confirm which is the case.
It's getting dark. Will concentrate on driving.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 14/04/2019, 11:42. Roughly four hours since previous recording.
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
Quick update.
Still driving — haven't stopped since I came in, really. It's, uh, it's boring, but I don't feel any physical fatigue. Any kind of physical tiredness — just as awake as I was when I came in here. I'm not hungry either, or thirsty. So I guess it's one of those kinds of situations.
It's, uh, pitch-black outside. I don't think I mentioned there weren't any street lights out here. I mean, I never said that there were, but I just wanna say specifically now that there aren't. It's just some slight light from the moon — a moon, I guess, no way to tell if it's the one I know. Oh, and the — the headlights of the car. Thank God those weren't broken coming in.
It's just… it's kind of calm, you know? Just the sound of the engine. Can't even hear any insects out there, or birds. Just this thing purring. I was kinda worried, you know — that this would be one of those things were, like, something awful would come out but only at night. That something would start trying to get in the car, or I'd catch glimpses of something out in the dark or something like that.
Well, I'm not trying to jinx it, but it doesn't seem like that's the case. There's nothing out there, far as I can tell. Just me, the dark and the road.
It's not so bad.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 14/04/2019, 11:45. Roughly three minutes since previous recording.
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
Forgot to mention — I'll do an inspection of the car, to check the fuel, soon as first light comes in.
Okay, that's it.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 15/04/2019, 10:02. Roughly ten hours since previous recording.
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
Okay, sort of a mass update here. Didn't want to clog this thing up with a bunch of ten-second recordings.
First things first: did that inspection of the fuel I was talking. Definitely still a full tank — so I should be good to keep driving unless something unforeseen happens. I mean, I'm hardly gonna crash, so… well, I say that. That leads me to the second thing, actually.
Came across a house on the side of the road a couple of hours after sunrise. A little, little sort of cottage thing, mostly made from wood. Kinda cosy-looking, that sort of… like the kind of thing you'd see on a Christmas card? Idealized, I think's the best way to put it. Anyway, I parked up and took a look around — wanted to see if there was any kind of, I don't know, natives or, or other people here.
Needless to say, there weren't. Place looked abandoned. Bed upstairs had been slept in, clearly, and there were dishes in the sink — oh, there was a sink — but the food in the fridge looked like it'd been rotten for a while. If someone once lived there, they haven't for a while. Got back in the car after my search and went back on the road.
Oh, it was on the left side, if that's important. Probably not.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 15/04/2019, 15:09. Roughly five hours since previous recording.
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
We're getting somewhere now.
More houses like the one I reported about earlier — well, more properties, I suppose. They're all sort of unique: different designs, different sizes. Cosy little cottages next to all this modern metal and glass next to, like, a little castle. Not much in terms of a unifying theme. I searched them all, of course, and they're just as abandoned as the cabin was. Food rotted where it's stored, so it's definitely been left there for a while.
These things seem to be coming up in clusters. I went an hour or so with just fields, and then I got a bunch of them all together. There haven't been any vehicles — just houses. One house had a driveway, but there was no car in it. Not sure if that means anything.
Fuel meter still hasn't budged — that probably isn't changing anytime soon. Not sure if there's anything to be done except go on driving, so — hold up.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 15/04/2019, 15:28. Roughly twenty minutes since previous recording.
Speaker(s): Agent Simeon Woods, Brenda Calloway1.

[RECORDING START]
Brenda Calloway: I just talk?
Agent Woods: You just talk. Actually, actually, I should probably give an — some kind of introduction first. Hold on.
(Agent Woods clears his throat.)
Agent Woods: I'm sitting in a, uh, a diner, a roadside diner by the name of … "Brenda's Spot?" Is that right?
Brenda Calloway: Mm-hmm.
Agent Woods: Okay. Yes. That's where I am, and I'm speaking with the proprietor, Brenda Calloway. Do you mind if I describe you? It's — we just have audio, so…
Brenda Calloway: So long as you're polite about, I guess.
Agent Woods: Alright. Miss Calloway is a, uh, a young woman — twenties? You're in your twenties, is that right? She's nodding. Caucasian brunette, uh, green eyes. Wearing some kind of waitress uniform — she's got a name card on, with her name on it. Sorry about that — and thanks for the coffee.
Brenda Calloway: No problem. You done?
Agent Woods: Yes. Yes, I'm done. I have to say — you didn't seem too surprised to see me.
(Pause.)
Brenda Calloway: Well, you're the first in a while, but people come through here every now and then. Last couple of fellas were prisoners in these orange suits, and they weren't too polite, but they went on their way quick enough.
Agent Woods: I see. And, um, may I ask when you yourself… came through?
(Pause.)
Brenda Calloway: Well, it was… I guess it must've been a while ago. Couldn't tell you the exact date, if that's what you wanna know. Was driving home from work one day, took a wrong turn, and I ended up in this place.
Agent Woods: In this diner?
Brenda Calloway: No, no, on the road, I mean. Still driving, like I just had been, but the road just kept going. Was so dark I didn't realize for a while, you know? And when I did, there still weren't that much I could do except keep going. Keep driving.
Agent Woods: I didn't notice your car when I came in.
Brenda Calloway: (sighs) Well, you know… you can only keep on driving for so long, right? Eventually, just, you just have to accept that you're not going anywhere. No matter how far I drove, it might've well as just been a dead end. So I, well, I just stopped.
(Pause.)
Agent Woods: And then…?
Brenda Calloway: I parked the car, got out to — well, you know, I carried a gun for safety — and there was the diner. Just in front of me, like it'd been there for years. Brenda's Stop. I was a waitress before, did I mention that? It was all I'd ever been good for — so I figured 'why not'? I set up shop: all the supplies I needed were already here, and they stock themselves up every now and then.
(Pause.)
Brenda Calloway: (shrugs) You take what you can get.
Agent Woods: You're content just… staying here? Forever?
Brenda Calloway: Well, not forever. If I wanted to, I could just walk off, across the fields… and I get the feeling that that'd be that. But it's not so bad here. I keep myself busy, you know?
Agent Woods: Right.
(Pause.)
Brenda Calloway: Hey… what year is it? Could you tell me that?
Agent Woods: It's, um…
Brenda Calloway: It ain't the 70's anymore, is it?
Agent Woods: No.
(Pause. Faint sound of sniffling.)
Brenda Calloway: Could… could you?
Agent Woods: Of course.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 15/04/2019, 17:22. Roughly two hours since previous recording.
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
Asked her if she wanted to come with me, I was happy to give her a ride, but… guess not. Seemed happy enough where she was. Well, not happy, but you know what I mean. Better the devil you know, I guess. Or something like that.
Back in the car now, back on the road. Starting to, uh, starting to get a little played out — these songs you guys gave me. Probably should have accounted for a, uh, a long trip. Well, we didn't know there'd be a trip at all, so this is fine, I guess. I'm fine.
Cloudy again.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 16/04/2019, 05:11. Roughly twelve hours since previous recording.
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
(singing)
Put the lime in the coconut and… oops, shit.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 22/04/2019, 12:22. Roughly six days since previous recording.
Speaker(s): Agent Simeon Woods, "Harvey Preston"2.

[RECORDING START]
Agent Woods: -like normal?
Harvey Preston: Yup, just like you'd expect. Was a little wary to try it myself at first, of course, you understand, but it's just like normal. Not half bad. You wanna…?
Agent Woods: Oh, no, no, that's okay. Like I was saying, though, is there a message you'd want me to pass on once I get out or…?
(Laughter.)
Harvey Preston: I told you, son. There ain't no place to reach. There's just the road and wherever you decide to stop driving. You've got to get realistic at some point.
Agent Woods: All the same.
Harvey Preston: I… I'm not an idiot. There's nobody out there for you to give a message to. I'm happy enough here — just let me be.
Agent Woods: Are you sure? There's seats in the car, we could…
Harvey Preston: I'd thank you to get off my property, son.
(Pause.)
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 22/04/19, 12:49. Roughly thirty minutes since previous recording.
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
That was, uh, that was Harvey Preston. He was in this farm I came across — huge, just huge sort of place, fields and fields of stuff other than grass, actually. All sorts of fruits, crops, you know. Even a combine harvester. I wonder if you could use that to drive the road. Probably not.
God, it's nice out. If — if there's some background noise, I've got the window open.
Anyway, he was just, uh — sorry about the lack of updates, by the way, it's just that there's not been much to report. Lost the habit. He was just doing his thing. You don't need to eat here, but I guess he enjoys the work of it. Dunno if 'enjoy' is the right word, though. More like, uh… something to keep you busy. You gotta find something to waste the seconds away with, I guess.
Just fields again now.
Dum de dum.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 14/05/19, 21:43. Roughly twenty-two days since previous recording.
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
I've got to, um…
I'm not sure if this is a confession, exactly — it's not like I've done anything wrong, exactly. I just feel like I've got to say it, and I guess you guys are like a captive audience. Will be a captive audience. Hopefully, I mean.
I volunteered this, after the first two guys didn't come back. Must've looked like a suicide thing. Maybe it was — but I, I don't think so. It just felt like… doing this was some kind of impact. A contribution to something that wasn't me — like, like an important one. It's hard to put into words.
My dad died when he was thirty, and his dad before him, and — uh — so on. My mom told me about it. I mean, I'm not a superstitious guy, but there's something there. You guys have to admit there's something there. And I'm — I'm twenty-eight now — so there's that kinda fear. You know. You start thinking about the impact you're gonna leave. Whether it all means something, whether it meant anything.
(Pause.)
There's this… there's this feeling, where you just wanna worry about it, all the time — and you realize that as you're, you're worrying about it, you're wasting time. And you don't have time. It's running out, every second. Even as you're thinking that. But it's just so awful you can't help it. And nothing means anything.
(Pause. Agent Woods can be heard sighing.)
This road… I get the feeling nobody's got to the end. Not properly. That's got to mean something, hasn't it? If I find out what's there? If I meet it? It has to. And all I have to do is keep driving. It's the easiest thing in the world.
And if it goes on forever, well… I guess there could be worse things. I've got nothing but time.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 11/07/2019, 14:22. Roughly two months since previous recording.
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
Nothing to report.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 26/10/2019, 17:49. Roughly three months since previous recording.
Speaker(s): Agent Simeon Woods, "Lucy Carson"3

[RECORDING START]
Agent Woods: This is, uh, Lucy Carson. She lives at [REDACTED]. Go ahead.
(Pause.)
Lucy Carson: Harry, baby, if you're, uh — if you're there, I love you. I love you so much. And — and the kids. If they're — if you're listening to this, too, Mommy loves you. God, you're probably too old for that now, aren't you? So, so old. You just, you just keep going. Okay? I love you guys. I — I — so much. It's… I…
(Pause.)
Agent Woods: That's okay. You did great.
[RECORDING END]

The following sixty-two recordings proceeded in much the same manner, with Agent Woods allowing various individuals he encountered to record messages intended for friends and loved ones. Deliberation is currently underway regarding a way to deliver these messages to their intended recipients without a breach of secrecy.
A full archive of these recordings is available upon request. This log will proceed following this aforementioned period:

Approximated Time: 11/09/2020, 13:39. Roughly one year since previous recording.
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
The clusters are starting to die off now. Nothing since Grey's place for a week or so now. Had a birthday driving, I realized, just after the big castle. It's sunny today. I like the warmth on my skin. It's like … it's nice. I've got the window open.
I wonder if it'll rain soon. It rains every now and then. Did I ever mention that? It's not slippery, but it sounds nice coming off the windows. Like fingers tapping against the glass, but, uh…
(Laughter.)
…a little less spooky than that, I think.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 24/12/2020, 19:22. Roughly three months since previous recording.
Speaker(s): Agent Simeon Woods, D-92214

[RECORDING START]
D-9921: I do appreciate it, though.
Agent Woods: No problem. You really did get sick of that cabin, didn't ya?
(Pause.)
D-9921: Mm-hmm.
Agent Woods: Did we send you in with that bag?
D-9921: Must've.
Agent Woods: I read the files — I don't remember that.
D-9921: It was in the cabin when my car crashed. It's not a big deal.
Agent Woods: I never said it was a big deal.
D-9921: Okay.
(Pause.)
Agent Woods: If we're gonna be driving together, we might as well try and get along. Where were you-
D-9921: Are you recording this?
Agent Woods: Yeah.
(Pause.)
D-9921: I want to drive.
(Pause.)
Agent Woods: Sure thing. Lemme just stop the car.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: 24/12/2020, 23:57. Roughly four hours since previous recording.
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
Had to ditch him.
Got a bad vibe. Didn't like the way he was being cagey about the bag. Might have been nothing, but… if it was nothing, why would he get so defensive about it? Was it a weapon, maybe? It could have been a knife. I don't know what he would have done with it. Maybe he was a little sore about being thrown in here. I wouldn't blame him.
Or it might have been nothing.
I feel a little bad, but… not as bad I thought I would. It's not like I left him to starve, or freeze, or die alone. Someone will come along. Something will come along — eventually. Things don't happen here in ways they aren't meant to. Or anywhere. This is a one-way road, after all.
It's very empty now. Not even grass. I think I'm getting somewhere.
(Beeping sound.)
Oh. Merry Christmas, I guess.
[RECORDING END]

Timestamps from this point onward are unclear, preventing specific dating of entries. Logs are adjusted as appropriate.

Approximated Time: Unknown
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

Imagine the biggest apartment building you've ever seen.
Like, imagine you've lived in the country all your life. I don't know if you, the person listening, can relate to that — or if any of you can, if you're listening in a group. I grew up in the country, and when you go to the city everything just looks massive. In a different way, I guess. In the country, things are wide, things stretch off forever — but in the city, things are tall. Things reach up for the sky.
Imagine a building — just, just the biggest you've ever seen. Full of people. And then imagine it over, and over again, stacked on top of itself. Like a kid's toys, just left in a pile.
It's like that, right now, both sides of the road… just, just these grey concrete buildings just smashed together, the piles reaching up all the way into the sky. Sun's sort of poking through the gaps, but just barely.
(Sounds of rumbling and crashing.)
Did you catch that? Every now and then, dozens of those buildings will just slide off those piles, smash onto the road and just… just fade away. It's kind of sad. Once, I think these were places people could settle for, and they're just… gone. Forever.
There are people here, too, but I don't think I'll be stopping this time. I catch them, looking at me through broken windows, peeking over shattered balconies. They have angry eyes. It's not that they want the car, I don't think, it's just… the audacity, I think. That I'm still going, and they aren't.
I can understand why they're angry. They almost made it, I think.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: Unknown
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
Made it through. When I cleared the buildings, I could hear them behind me. Shouting after me, like a — like a chorus. Like an angry chorus.
I didn't look back.
It's fields again, now — but not the same fields. I haven't got out to check — I feel like that isn't a good idea anymore — but I'm pretty sure it's reeds, not grass. Well, I know reeds are a kind of grass but, you know, long and yellow instead of short and green. Just thought it might be worth mentioning.
(Pause.)
Let's get this done. It's bright out.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: Unknown, possibly 16/04/2021.
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
Still driving, I think. I can't hear the engine — it's, it's too bright for that, I think. Like I'm driving into the sun. Can't even see outside the windows, but — you know — my eyes don't hurt. Don't even sting. It's like a gentle star.
(Pause.)
I think it might be my birthday.
[RECORDING END]

Approximated Time: Unknown
Speaker: Agent Simeon Woods

[RECORDING START]
The engine's stopped. I… okay. That's…
(Sound of knocking against glass. Sound of window being rolled down.)
H-Hi.
(Pause.)
Okay. I… oh my… G-God, that's…
(Agent Woods laughs.)
That's so beautiful.
[RECORDING END]

On 23/05/2021, Agent Simeon Woods and his vehicle reappeared within the forest clearing at the end of SCP-5322. On-site personnel quickly recovered both, and Agent Woods was declared dead at the scene. Cause of death ruled as sudden heart failure at an indeterminate date and time.
Agent Woods was found to be smiling.

Footnotes
1. Georgia native reported missing in 1977.
2. Georgia native reported missing in 1932.
3. Georgia native reported missing in 1996.
4. First member of D-Class personnel sent through SCP-5322.

« SCP-5321 | SCP-5322 | SCP-5323 »


Item#: 5323

Level3

Containment Class:
euclid

Secondary Class:
none

Disruption Class:
keneq

Risk Class:
danger

link to memo

Special Containment Procedures: The object is not to be described or mentioned in physical print, nor appear in any visual media shot with film reel technology, under any circumstances. Vocalization and digital text are, at this time, regarded as the only safe methods of discussion. The object is otherwise to be contained in a standard humanoid containment cell, and afforded all accommodations and amenities considered standard for humanoid habitation as defined by the Ethics Committee. All personnel that are assigned to SCP-5323 must be thoroughly vetted and approved by no fewer than three staff members with Level 4 Clearance or higher.
Description: SCP-5323 is a white humanoid lacking any visible hair, eyes, ears, or a nose, but is capable of functioning normally despite these abnormalities. SCP-5323 appears to be resistant to the effects of aging, having not changed in appearance since the pertinent Foundation surveillance and retrieval operations began in the summer of 2000. The object prefers to be referred to as "Alan Smithee", and is generally cooperative with Foundation personnel if also abrasive in social interactions.
Apart from the aforementioned physical characteristics, the object is otherwise normal and exhibits no outwardly anomalous abilities unless it is described in physical print (either handwritten or typed using a typewriter or similar instrument), at which point [DATA CORRUPTED]

This document is currently undergoing extensive troubleshooting. In the meantime, PDF files of old scanned documents may be found below. — Site Director DeBruin

View PDFs of archived documents

That's a wrap!

Discovery Log 5323:

1
Date: 14/06/2000

BAMBOOZLED
by Alan Smithee

[FADE IN]
INT. ABANDONED HOLLYWOOD OFFICE
We see a pale white humanoid lacking hair, eyes, ears, and a nose—though still sporting a mouth—wearing a garish white three-piece suit chomping on a hefty Cuban cigar; this is ALAN. He is sitting at the desk of a fairly typical office (albeit dilapidated from neglect) surrounded by file cabinets and a landline phone. Alan has his feet propped up on the desk, and is currently reading through a script titled "CATWOMAN (FIRST DRAFT)". He chuckles, then coughs loudly, knocking over the coffee mug on its side with his feet.

ALAN
Christ, this is awful.

Alan reaches over and resets the coffee mug upright, then taps its side. The coffee mug fills up. The office door opens, and we see a young blonde lady peek through slowly, stopping at revealing her eyes through the door. This is ANNIE. She speaks with a raspy smoker's voice.

ANNIE
Um… Mr. Smithee?

Alan looks up from the script and smiles.

ALAN
Annie!
(closes script and waves it)
I fuckin' hate this. Would you mind sending it back to whoever asked me to do it? Tell them even I don't stoop this low.

2

ANNIE
Certainly, sir. Um, I actually wanted to inform you that your three o'clock is here.

Alan flips his wrist and checks his watch, confused look on his face. He notices the watch isn't working.

ALAN
(muttering)
How long's it been 11am?

He looks up at Annie and smiles again.

ALAN
Send 'em in.

CUT TO: The same office, but two men in black suits with visible nametags are sitting across from Alan. Alan is sitting up straight, cigar doused in an ash tray though still billowing smoke. The man on the left is wearing a bowler cap and sunglasses—Agent BRANDO—while the man on the right is dark haired with no headwear—Agent BOGART. (Probably just codenames) A lengthy pause ensues.

ALAN
Who are you trying to impress, huh? With those names?
BRANDO
Mr. Smithee, we'd like to make you an offer you can't refuse.
ALAN
I'm listening.
BRANDO
We represent a major film producer whose identity will not be divulged per his request.
ALAN
Uh-huh. What studio?

3

BOGART
It's a new one, name pending. Trademarks and all that jazz. In the meantime, we're looking to hire the best of the best.

Alan's unimpressed glance morphs into a half-grin.

ALAN
So he sends you to me?
BRANDO
Is there a problem?
ALAN
With me? Nah. It's just… your boss might not know what he's getting into.
BOGART
Oh, he is well aware.

An awkward pause fills the room. Alan taps his desk one finger after the next.

ALAN
Couldn't hurt, I guess.

INT. ABANDONED HOLLYWOOD CUBICLE SPACE
We see the trio walking out of the office. The building Alan is working out of has mold on the walls, lights ripped out and dangling from the ceiling, chairs knocked upside down, and an unexplained skeleton with its jaws pressed against a dusty coffee mug in the background. We pan and see Annie is actually a floating disembodied head, cut cleanly at the neck. She is sitting at a typewriter, which is clacking away via unknown means.

ANNIE
Should I clear your schedule, Mr. Smithee?

4

ALAN
Please do. Oh, except for the seven o'clock dinner with the Bay guy. I wanna pick his brain a bit before I let him loose. Guy's explosive.

The agents turn to stare at each other in confusion, then both look at Annie.

BOGART
Clear that, too. Mr. Smithee will be with us for the day.

Alan turns around to look at the agents with a nasty frown. He begins walking towards them menacingly.

ALAN
Ey! You need me for the day, that's fine. But nobody fuckin' tells Annie what to do.
BRANDO
We didn't mean to offend, sir.

Alan adjusts his suit collar.

ALAN
Let's be off, then. As you can tell, I'm a very busy man. I'll need to be back in action at the crack of dawn tomorrow, capisce?

The two agents nod, then look at Annie and wave; she smiles back. The three walk out of the room.
EXT. HOLLYWOOD ALLEY - AFTERNOON
We see Alan walking down the dank alley with the agents close behind. As they round a dumpster, MTF agents rush the corner and surround Alan, who appears to be surprised.

5

ALAN
Hot damn! Those costumes are fuckin' incredible! And the guns—they look practically real!
MTF 1
Wanna see for yourself, punk?

Alan grins from would-be ear to would-be ear.

ALAN
That's my line.

Alan points finger guns at MTF 1, and the four of them open fire on Alan. He suddenly vanishes and appears on top of the dumpster, then mouths "pew pew pkow" noises as the MTF soldiers begin recoiling and falling over, shrieking in pained surprise. Alan then vanishes and reappears between the four MTF agents. Brando and Bogart appear both horrified and confused.

BOGART
Agents down? I think?

Brando aims a pistol at Alan, who is blowing on the tips of his finger guns,
puffing a lit cigar that seemed to appear from nowhere.

ALAN
Quit pointing that thing at me.

Alan holsters his "guns". Bogart rushes over to rip back the suit of one of the MTF agents, and finds no bullet holes or blood.

BOGART
Brando! No wounds on these soldiers.
BRANDO
So, what? They're just… acting?
MTF 2
Sure as fuck feels real!
ALAN (cont'd)
I tell ya, I've heard of method acting, but this is the first I've seen method producing. Never been shot at by extras before. Who do you work for, again?

Bogart freezes, then turns to look at Brando while still crouched. Brando still has his gun out, but meets eyes with Bogart. Bogart shrugs, and Brando shoots Alan in the leg.
[CUT TO BLACK]

Site-55 Breach Log

This warning was found printed on the back page.

The following breach log is notably graphic in content, exacerbated by the lack of clinical tone in the description of events per the effects of SCP-5323. Personnel who do not wish to read the breach log knowing this may instead open the .txt file appended underneath.

_

Click to show scanned documentsDATA CORRUPTION DETECTED

1
Date: 16/11/2000

LIFE AIN'T FAIR
by Alan Smithee

[FADE IN]
A pale man wearing a Foundation jumpsuit—ALAN—is sitting in a containment cell, head in hands. He rubs his face, then stares into the distance blankly, as if contemplating.

ALAN
How the fuck did I end up here?

A loud scraping sound can be heard before a tray with sloppy food and a water bottle plop into the room at the door's base.

GUARD 1
Eat. Or don't. I'm not your mom.

Alan is now playing "Pastures of Plenty" on harmonica. The harmonica materialized out of nowhere. We hear a banging on the cell door.

GUARD 1 (cont'd)
You know the rules! No music!

We now see Alan smoking a cigar. A smoke detector in his room beeps loudly.

GUARD 2
Hey, shitbird! You gonna share?
ALAN
Come on in, I'll light you one.
GUARD 2
Ha, nice try.

Alan throws the cigar against the door. He then sees writing on the wall next to the door: "YOU'RE IN CONTROL".

2

ALAN
Huh. That wasn't there before.
GUARD 1
Shut the fuck up. We're not opening the door.

Alan counts down from three with his fingers, after which his cell door vanishes. As this is silent, the guards don't notice. He then grins, and counts down again. About five seconds pass before screams of sheer terror echo throughout the facility. Multiple loud and obnoxious alarms begin blaring with accompanying lights, and a voice on the INTERCOM buzzes on after a further ten seconds.

INTERCOM
Code Red. Repeat, Code Red. The site is experiencing a sudden catastrophic breach on all containment cells. Research personnel are to head for the nearest point of evacuation. Armed personnel are to attempt re-containment of medium-level threats as opportunity allows before heading for evacuation. Repeat, Code Red…

The guards are now alert, and turn around before aiming their rifles at Alan.

GUARD 2
Don't fucking move.

Alan holds his hands up, but the guards are then pounced on by a disgusting slimy salamander-esque creature with an insect's head. The guards are promptly devoured, blood and guts spraying out like a geyser.

ALAN
Better them than me.

Alan exits his cell and begins running down the hall. He looks into various newly opened containment rooms, where he can see a researcher dissected and strung up by what appears to be an undead Norse shieldmaiden wielding a battleaxe. The shieldmaiden turns to Alan and points her finger at him.

SHIELDMAIDEN
Þú hefir stjórn.

3

Alan continues down the hall and in another room spots a guard being decapitated by coins, blood gushing out like a broken fire hydrant. We see a handsome thirty-something man holding hands up as if controlling even more floating coins nearby. The man turns to Alan and winks.1

ALAN
Find me after all this is over. I need a new financial advisor.

Upon encountering an intersection, Alan spins to survey his options for progression. Down the east hall he sees research staff backing into a corner away from a large towering monster made of pitch black goop before it looms over and envelops them. Down the west hall he sees facility guards marching his way. Down the north hall he sees ██████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████
██████████████████████████████████████
██████.

ALAN
West it is.

Alan is now wearing a cowboy hat, and his jumpsuit transforms into a dusty 1860s button up, alongside leather boots outfitted with spurs. The facility guards reach the intersection and spread into a formation to block entrance; one guard (GUARD 4) is noticeably older than the others. Alan is standing with one heel cocked back, hand on his hip, and looking down such that the rim of his hat is obscuring what would be his eyes if he possessed any.

GUARD 3
Don't move! We will shoot!
ALAN
World's all kinds 'a fucked up when y'all're apprehendin' the hero of this here land as the Shadow Beast of Farthington runs wild down yonder.

Alan points a thumb towards the east hall, which is now caked in black goop with skeletons lining the walls. We hear an ear shattering otherworldly screech from around the corner down the hall.

GUARD 3
If you're the hero, why don't you go handle that thing?

4

Alan leans over and spits some chewing tobacco off to the side. He adjusts his hat.

ALAN
'Cause, fella… it ain't part of my tall tale.
GUARD 4
Let's just go. I'm not about to get cut in half on my last day before retirement.

The three guards ease up and stand up straight. We then hear three loud slashing sounds in succession, and now a scimitar can be seen floating in mid-air. The three guards suddenly split in half, with the pieces falling to the ground seeping an endless supply of blood. A woman then materializes holding the blade. This is SANDY.2 Alan tips his hat.

ALAN
Good day to you, ma'am. I dare say you prolly done saved my hide.
SANDY
'Tis a pity I must cut you down next, gunslinger!
ALAN
Now hold on just a goshdarned minute—

Sandy begins waving her scimitar around with skill and grace. Amidst the waving, she retrieves another from the sheathe at her hip. She then performs a very impressive sword dance (NOTE: hire choreographer for this part) and shrieks as she then rushes Alan down, but he sighs and draws his iron, shooting Sandy in the head. Alan walks up to the body, which doesn't have any bullet holes or blood, and he somberly reaches down to close the woman's eyes. Alan then notices blood pouring from his sleeves, with more blood in his chest region. He then coughs and falls to the floor, rolling into his back.

ALAN
Nothin' ever goes accordin' to plan, does it?

On the ceiling above, Alan notices the words "WELL DONE" written in wet black ink, and a crude pentagram shape underneath. He then passes out with a whimper.
[FADE OUT]

—

_

55_breach_2000_report.txtSome data has been removed per orders from the director.

INCIDENT REPORT
2000 BREACH AT SITE-55
Date written: 14/12/2000
NOTE: The original log written by a typist on a typewriter has been tampered with due to the effects of SCP-5323. This log, written later, is in digital format and thus unaffected.
After extensive review of video footage, it has been deduced that SCP-5323's door was the first to vanish, before all other facility doors vanished simultaneously. Further evidence of involvement includes the presence of the text "YOU'RE IN CONTROL" within 5323's cell and "WELL DONE" just above where it passed out. Several objects including SCP-████ and SCP-████ were found to be missing following the breach, suggesting some foul play was involved.
The identity of the vanishing swordswoman, hereby Anomalous Object Bladespinner, has yet to be determined.

Gutierrez: Wait… AO-Bladespinner honestly sounds a lot like SCP-3928… but in 2000? That doesn't add up. It was only captured recently.

DeBruin: Check the access logs. Has anyone visited SCP-5323 in the last two years?

Gutierrez: Only a handful of assigned personnel. The most recent is Jerry Locke, a junior researcher from DC.

DeBruin: Any records of what Locke has said to 5323?

Gutierrez: No, just records of him signing in and out. I'm looking into this.

Interview Log 5323-1

1
Date: 18/01/2001

ONE PRISON FOR ANOTHER
by Alan Smithee

[FADE IN]
INT. SITE-55 INTERROGATION CHAMBER
We see a woman, bespectacled, with red hair tied into a bun; this is DR. DEBRUIN. DeBruin is sitting at a table within a nondescript interrogation room; ALAN is sitting across from her, wrists bound and tied to the table.

DEBRUIN
Let the record state, this is Dr. Jennifer DeBruin of Site-55, interviewing SCP-5323.
SCP-5323 ALAN
Alan.
DEBRUIN
Hm?
ALAN
My name is Alan. Not SCP whatever the fuck.
DEBRUIN
As you please. We have a lot to discuss today, Alan. Where you come from. Your abilities. What you know of the breach in November. I will defer to you. Which line of questioning do you feel most comfortable starting with?

Alan sits back and crosses his arms, then bends his head back as if considering.

2

ALAN
My abilities.
DEBRUIN
Very well. Could you describe them to me?
ALAN
Be easier to show you.

Alan holds up his wrists, then counts down from three with his fingers. The binds around his wrists promptly disappear. DeBruin shifts in her seat uncomfortably.

DEBRUIN
Please refrain from doing that. It's preferable that you simply describe your abilities. We will confirm them during controlled testing exercises.
ALAN
You mean, confirm what you already know?

DeBruin meets her hands and gently places them on the table, sits up straight, and looks at Alan with a sweet yet uneasy smile.

DEBRUIN
What do we already know, Alan?
ALAN
Reality as you know it is just a blank piece of paper to me. Anything I say, goes.
DEBRUIN
Records show that this isn't always the case. You only seem to have control if you are described in physical print—ie, in handwriting, or via a typewriter. Or if you're on physical film tape.

3

ALAN
See? You already know. Fuck's the point repeating any of it?

DeBruin takes out a laptop and opens it, then begins typing. Alan is sporting an irritated frown.

DEBRUIN
I am currently describing you on this machine. Do you feel any power over the text I'm generating?
ALAN
No.
DEBRUIN
Could you speculate as to why you have no control with digital text?

Alan rubs his face and groans in frustration.

ALAN
Fuck off. You obviously have some idea already. You're trying to segue into my origins, aren't you?

DeBruin stops typing. She is once more looking at Alan with the uncertain smile.

DEBRUIN
If you're ready.

Alan now appears genuinely angry. He raises his voice to a shout.

ALAN
So, is this the part where I spill my guts to you, doc? Where I tell you how I was a failing director contracting for RKO before I got scooped up by some suits after talking shit about Ike?

DeBruin resumes typing.

4

DEBRUIN
To be clear, that's referring to Dwight Eisenhower?
ALAN
You couldn't say anything about anything back in those days. You'd either have Hayes or Uncle Sam breathing down your neck at every fucking sentence. In my case, it was McCarthy. I say Ike could've handled some things better, suddenly I'm a fucking communist.
DEBRUIN
I see. So, walk me through this. How did you become… you?

Alan is now smoking a cigar, leaning back. He props his feet up on the table.

DEBRUIN (cont'd)
No smoking in here. And please don't—

Alan blows smoke towards DeBruin, who sits perfectly still with her eyes closed as the smoke travels around her.

ALAN
Y'know Dalton Trumbo? He was one of the lucky ones. He was too renowned, too important, so they couldn't do anything to him. But most of us got disappeared. Like we were in fuckin' Moscow. Just poof. All our records, scrubbed. Suddenly, just like that—

Alan leans forward and snaps his fingers before leaning back.

ALAN (cont'd)
—we didn't exist. They took us under some mountain, this bleak ass bunker place lookin' like it was pulled right out of 1984… but it was 1954.
DEBRUIN
Who were they?

5

ALAN
Fuck if I know. I figure some government shitheads. They used a… bald eagle with a big "P" on the shield, I dunno. After you folks nabbed me, I thought it might could've been y'all, maybe just taking me back after all that time. But I doubt that now. Y'all are the biggest fuckin' pricks I've ever met besides Kubrick, but you don't do this…

Alan motions around his head.

ALAN (cont'd)
…to folks. You just lock 'em up. Cruel in its own way. But nothing compared to this.
DEBRUIN
Alan, do you remember what exactly they did to you?
ALAN
They did a lot of sedating, so not really. It's all fuckin' fuzzy. I know they cut me up more than a few times. And my assistant at my office, Annie? She was there too. As was Bill, and Mikey, and Benny, and Lenny—
DEBRUIN
What happened to them?
ALAN
I don't know. Me and Annie, we got out. Ran out when there was an opening. Some old RKO buddies who got laid off came along to smuggle us back to town. I can't tell you why they risked their neck like that, I really can't. I'm just thankful. The luckiest of the unlucky.

DeBruin continues typing for about fifteen seconds as Alan puffs his cigar. DeBruin then stops, and looks back up at Alan.

6

DEBRUIN
How did you continue to evade recapture?
ALAN
McCarthy lost his footing. Plus, producers saw me as useful. I could produce special effects beyond their wildest dreams. Hollywood has pull with the government.
DEBRUIN
Then, later, they started using your name on disowned productions?
ALAN
I actually finished those productions. I was faster at wrapping up a movie than anyone else, since I could just do anything for the camera. But I did it from the shadows, so only the big wigs knew who I was. To everyone else, I was just a name.
DEBRUIN
Alan Smithee.
ALAN
Yeah.

Alan sighs heavily, smoke billowing out of his mouth. A long pause ensues before DeBruin looks up at a camera in the corner of the room and shrugs. We then hear a voice on the intercom chirp and buzz before it's revealed to be DR. MORGENSEN.

MORGENSEN
Let's call it there. We'll resume tomorrow.
DEBRUIN
Yes, sir.

We see Alan sitting, reminiscing on his past in bleak, double edged nostalgia.
[FADE OUT]

Interview Log 5323-2

1
Date: 19/01/2001

SHIT
by Alan Smithee

[FADE IN]
INT. SITE-55 INTERROGATION CHAMBER
We see a pale humanoid, ALAN, sitting slouched in a seat at a metal table. The door opens, and an older gentleman in a white coat, DR. MORGENSEN, walks in and sits down. He places a laptop on the table and opens it, appearing ready to type, then glares at Alan.

MORGENSEN
This is Dr. James Morgensen, Site-55, interviewing SCP-5323, also known as Alan.
ALAN
Where's the cute redhead?
MORGENSEN
Dr. DeBruin is on sick leave. Sudden development of severe headaches.
ALAN
Damn. I like her.
MORGENSEN
Noted. Now, I'm going to ask you about the breach. Uh, what did you do after your door disappeared?
ALAN
I sat and waited in my room, like a good boy, for your attack dogs to threaten me into submission.

2

Morgensen adjusts his glasses, still typing away.

MORGENSEN
And then they were attacked by SCP-████?

Alan shrugs.

MORGENSEN
When you were confronted by the next guard detail, you donned the appearance of a—well, a cowboy. What's the reasoning behind that?
ALAN
Most things I do that don't earn me some dough are inspired by boredom.
MORGENSEN
I see. You must be a fan of Sergio Leone.
ALAN
Too few of those nowadays.
MORGENSEN
Mm-hmm. What about that sword wielding woman? What do you know about her?
ALAN
Sandy? Nothing. Isn't that your job?
MORGENSEN
See, there's an inconsistency. If we try to backtrack, find where her files begin—we get nothing.

Alan is smoking a cigar, his feet propped up on the table. Morgensen scoffs and shakes his head.

3

ALAN
I gotta be honest with you, doc. That… sounds like a "you" problem.
MORGENSEN
Indeed, as are the numerous objects that are now missing and unaccounted for. What happened to them?
ALAN
You ask that like I have any fuckin' clue.
MORGENSEN
You ought to.

Morgensen spins the laptop around, revealing a photograph on the screen of the "YOU'RE IN CONTROL" text. Alan is now sitting up, on the edge of his seat.

ALAN
I can't be creative in my own cell?
MORGENSEN
Cut the shit. We have video, too. It just appeared on the wall, out of nothing. Same with "WELL DONE". Somebody sent you a signal.
ALAN
Maybe… but it doesn't mean I know who.
MORGENSEN
Perhaps not. So maybe it's best I pull the plug on research into you. Or plug you in, I should say.
ALAN
What?
MORGENSEN
We're going all digital. About fucking time, at any rate.

4

Morgensen waves at the camera.

MORGENSEN
We're done. Cut the feed.

Morgensen shuts the laptop, gets up, adjusts his collar, then begins to exit the room. We see Alan, still with his feet propped, still smoking a cigar. The door opens and two guards enter.

GUARD
Get up. It's bedtime.

Alan clutches the cigar, appearing wracked with pain and inner turmoil now that he is doomed to live imprisoned forever. He flicks his wrist, and a magnum slides out.

ALAN
I'm still in control.

[CUT TO BLACK]

Page dimensions cut short due to lack of text.

_

Addendum: Level 4 Clearance requiredAccess granted

Gutierrez: Director, I found something.

AUDIO TRANSCRIPT
Date: 23/01/2020
Jerry: Hey, Alan.
Alan: Ay, Jerry! My favorite whitecoat.
Jerry: I'm flattered. Look, Alan… I have a theory I thought you could help me test.
Alan: Gimme the skinny and I'll say if it's a winny, eh?
Jerry: If you're in control, can you write new memories?
Alan: You know, I haven't considered that. Maybe.
Jerry: Don't tell anyone, but I brought…
[audible rustling noises, followed by a gasp and chuckle from Alan]
Alan: I like where this is going, Jerry.
Jerry: I knew you would! I'm gonna write you some new memories. All you have to do in return… is stop the guards at the intersection.
Alan: Huh?
Jerry: You'll know when you get there. Just remember: you're in control.
[END TRANSCRIPT]

DeBruin: Wait. Is this implying what I think it's implying?

Gutierrez: That breach 20 years ago was engineered three months ago. Our memories adjusted to forget. Maybe it's happened several times already. The real question is, who?

DeBruin: What was down the north hall?

Gutierrez: It's all redacted… but there are corrupted records of… oh shit!

DeBruin: What? Gutierrez? What is it?

Gutierrez: Take a look.

[INVALID_ENTRY]

Clandestine transmission detected from Washington, DC

Expertly handled, Agent Locke. The Indiana Jones reference with Sandraudiga was a little forced for my taste, but I can't argue with results. — B

Footnotes
1. Anomaly theorized to be SCP-4333.
2. Anomaly theorized to be SCP-3928.

« SCP-5322 | SCP-5323 | SCP-5324 »


Item #: SCP-5324
Object Class: Presumed Safe
Special Containment Procedures: Radio transmissions directed at the solar system are to be continually monitored by orbital probes. Signs of extraterrestrial communication are to be translated or interpreted with the utmost priority.
Description: SCP-5324 refers to a radio message intercepted by O5-5 during a routine radio scanning session1 on 5/6/21. Shortly after reviewing the contents of the message, O5-5 contacted other Council members, resulting in an anomalous designation. SCP-5324 was able to be translated due to an auditory memetic anomaly affecting it; listeners being able to understand the spoken material, regardless of their native tongue. The full extent of this effect is that listeners are able to hear the original audio while simultaneously being able to interpret a translation.
A full transcription of SCP-5324 is available below:

Greetings, citizens! I, Messenger, represent the members of the Thought Monarch Network! Just so you know, your planetary crust contains high amounts of salt, iron, and nickel; exactly what we need for our own purposes! Since we don't expect you to reasonably extract the amount of material that we need yourselves, we'll be happy to do it for you!
What we'll need you to do is move objects or entities important to you to a nearby planetary body while we complete our minor adjustments! For starters, we'll temporarily relinquish your atmosphere until we believe you are in need of it, and all remaining material on your planetary surface will be disassembled for future use!
Next, we'll implement helpful planetary policies, such as a monthly bodily organs collection program, and the weekly collection of excess bone matter for your own enjoyment and comfort! Hopefully, your lower mass will help you adjust to our next change:
Just like you've always wanted, we're releasing our new entertainment system for all you feisty organisms! A room, large enough to accommodate an exciting household item (such as a bed!) will be your new lodging, free of charge! You can choose sleeping, eating, drinking, breathing, and many more enriching activities as part of this program, with plenty of time devoted to personal reflection! Various customer reports have described our trial entertainment system as 'fun enough to never leave', so you can be sure you'll have a good time!
There's absolutely no need to worry as these changes are implemented, and we hope you have us again! Thank you, Planet Sherne!
Sincerely, Messenger

Addendum: Due to SCP-5324's perceived lack of relation to Earth, it has been classified as Safe. Additional information on the circumstances of SCP-5324's origin are currently under investigation.

Footnotes
1. According to O5-5, this behavior is reportedly performed as their hobby on weekends.

« SCP-5323 | SCP-5324 | SCP-5325 »