5212 maybe

Item#: SCP-5212
Object class: Safe
Containment procedures:
Description: SCP-5212 is a human who displays the capability to use a secondary right arm. This extra appendage exits and re-enters from the mouth. Tests conducted on SCP-5212 show that the appendage might possibly exist in a extra dimensional pocket space. SCP-5212 is fully capable of moving its head while the appendage is extruded. SCP-5212 seems to be very cooperative with foundation personnel.

For the act of loyalty and compliance to the foundation described in IR: AERT-11, SCP-5212 is one the few anomalies under foundation control to be awarded the honorary White-Hand metal.

Weight: 81.6kg
Height: 1.9 meters
Age: 206 months

Personal log:
[BIGINE LOG: SS-1]
[
Wait what? Really? You'll put it in? Thank you doctor. Ok. Uh… So do I just speak into this? Yes. It's a tex- to-speech. Ok then. Uh. Hi. I am D- sorry I mean I am SCP-5212. Uh. I. Uh. I'm hear because I have an arm that comes out of my mouth. I've been here since I was about fourteen. And this is a test of logs. Sorry, I mean this is a list of logs. Or, no wait, I mean, well this is a thing of stuff. It's ok. Just speak normal. Think about what you want to say first. Ok. This is my personal account of my disability. I can use a hand which comes out of my mouth. I stood on a scale for one test and they found that using my arm actually adds weight. So it's not inside me, which clears up a lot of the X-rays they took of me. In that sense I'm normal. You're doing great. Just keep talking. Uh, I uhm. They used to think I was a low level localized reality-warper that can only summon a hand. They thought it was because I was so used to doing it. You see I had told the foundation that I've been doing it all my life. And I have, for as long as I can remember. But one time they brought in a little thingy. At first I thought it was another brain puzzle. I get those pretty often. But they said it was a reality anchor. Something that stops reality-warping. But when they turned it on, nothing happened. So that idea was scraped. To be honest, I got my hopes up there. They said that if that was the case, then I could've entered this program they had. I can't remember what it was called, but it was like a prison release program. Anyway, I didn't get to enter, so that was a bust. I heard it was because a fat guy couldn't fly or something like that. To think, they scrapped that whole thing because of one guy. Hope he's happy. Not. I miss my family and the kids at my school, sometimes. It's been four years though. Nobody really questioned me summoning a hand from my mouth until I started using it in school. I knew better though. Never did it in public often. But eventually word got around, and here I was. To stay. Forever. I've been here long enough to know the terms they use here. Amnestics basically means forgetty spaghetti. Reality- warper means like either comic book villain nonsense or poltergeist-like things. You know, like turning people into cats and making stuff float and whatnot. Skip means SCP. I've been transferred to a couple of different places, but I've been here at site-88 the longest. I think the foundation is everywhere in the world but I have no idea what the other sites are like. Almost got to see one time. Got sent to something the staff called a transfer site. Site-50. Can't say I enjoyed it there too much though. Had a bad feeling about it. Well, I imagine it's probably just like here but more British anyways. Oh, and uh there's a park. Yeah, they actually have some small parks around here. Small, yes. behind huge walls with barbed wire fences and probably a mine field? Yes. But still. The flowers are pretty. I get some things too. Got a Wii system, a computer with internet, a nice bed to lay on. Stuff like that. Things get censored out and go through a screen first of course, but otherwise, I'm pretty much connected to the net. I still haven't talked to my family for a while though… Sometimes it's hard to remember their faces. I have to keep a picture with me just so I don't have to feel ashamed of myself for not being there… I… [INAUDIBLE | AUDIO NONTRANSCRIPTED] No. It's fine Amy. I've got four years in. I'm just… It's ok. Just a passing memory. It might be cynical, but I think I need to forget them. If I don't I, I, I feel like I might have this rain cloud hanging over me. It's not like I'm ever going to see the light of day again, after all. Metaphorically speaking. I already talked about the yards eirlyer ago. Just… I'm. I. I still have some hope. I. I sometimes get that feeling… It's. It's indescribable. Even though I know without a speck of uncertainty, that my life is going down a dark ally I can't see leaving for a while. I feel like the world won't end. Things will mostly be ok. [PAUSED] I, used to get these dreams… They… I mean there's nothing anomalous about them. They're just dreams. Hell, I'm only eighteen, and even I know why. Rem {REM}. It's just deep sleep mixed with a concoction of serotonin and dopamine. The physical process and stuff I know. But. The impact. The experience… I used to get dreams when I was younger. Much younger. Like, ten. Sometimes I would get a dream about being fast. Ridiculously fast. It was more than words can describe. Maybe, bliss..? Or euphoria..? It was like… I was running, but… You know how in action movies there are like slowed down moments where stuff looks like it's frozen? It's, not like that, but more like you can experience things like that. Like, you can stop and smell the flowers and just be able to take it all in at you leisure, but somehow doing it like a bullet tearing down the road. But, I guess less like a bullet and more like light. No, even faster than that. Like there's no limit. But, not slowed down. It's like your brain works millions of times over-time. You can genuinely take it all in. Speed was so… arbitrary… I don't believe in a heaven, but if there is one anyway… I imagine it would be exactly that, right down to a tee. Perfect. Utterly perfect… I could jump so high and so fast, [DELETED REPETITION OF WORD(S)/SOUND(S) UNKNOWN TO PROGRAM | SEE {C:\SYSTEM.SAV\CONFIG} FOR MORE INFORMATION, REBOOT PAGE OR CONTACT A SITE MANAGEMENT ASSISTANT] I. I. I. I could just jump, or, no more like, kick off the ground, effortlessly… A runner's high. A small kick, a big kick, everything so new, so much experiences… Like I was weightless. No, mass-less. Nothing could hold you back. I explored the whole world. The world was big. Way bigger than I could ever imagine. It would've been hard to comprehend, if it wasn't for the fact I was at piece, and that taking it all in sort to speak, just, happens. Am I rambling? I'm sorry, I feel like I might be rambling. No, no. It's fine. This is for future reference of psychiatric evaluation. Speak your mind all you want. Thank you. Uh. Where was I, I forgot what I was talking about. Uh. What was I saying a moment ago? I forgot. I'm sorry, but. You were talking about a dream you had. Running. Oh. Yeah, thank you. Uh. I got one of those dreams I want to say sometime around last November. I haven't had one since I was twelve or so. But, you don't ever forget dreams like that. Ever. So, I feel… Like everything's going to turn out well for me. [PAUSED] Anyway I'm getting off track. Uh. I've been getting into knitting. Oh, and I've asked for a cat. The project associates say they have to ask the site manager before approval though. With any luck, I'll have a fuzzy new friend soon. Amy here said she'll put out a good word for me. On an off note by the way, I've been hearing music lately. It's pretty good actually. I like it. It's like the old car's radio but with more channels. I think the staff outside my room have a radio. They like to play that one coconut tree song a lot. Can't blame them. Hey, how do I shut this off. Could you please help me? Thank you ma'am.
]
[END LOG: SS-1]

[BEGINE LOG: SS-2]
[
I don't want to treat this thing like a diary or something, but I have to get this out or I'm going to go crazy. Actually, I already think I am. There's this fucking music that's been playing nonstop for the last few weeks. I thought it was Eirny just playing his radio while cleaning the floors. But it's even at night when the lights are out. Always something different. The same song never plays twice. I asked the guards to force him to shut it off during the night, and that shit is insane. I can barely go to sleep, and this guy looked me in the eye and said he there was no music. So I started asking everyone about it, and some said they could hear it, the others could but kept saying its was different songs than what it was. Sam, the guard stationed at the cafeteria east wing doorway. He said it was heavy metal. But I asked Rob and Dwayne and they said it was both an electro-pop song and wrecking ball by Miley Cyrus. I heard the one Sonic Colors theme. Everyone's been acting, strange… The music's getting louder constantly. I feel like I am going to burst one of these days like the guy from the beating hart.
]
[END LOG: SS-2]

[BEGIN LOG: SS-3]
[
I swear to fucking god the world is fucking crumbling! I mean litterally! The fucking west wing of the site has fucking vanished and I swear to fucking god I saw out of the corner of my eye a wall glitch out. Weird shit os going on and I'm freaking the fuck out! Nobody is listening. There's been a containment breach! I don't know what they keep here, but some fucked up shit is lose and I'm scared. Everyone is acting like it's normal. Rob! Rob exploded right in the middle of the fucking room, and nobey even seemed to notice! Please, somebody listen.
]
[END LOG: SS-3]

[BEGIN LOG: SS-4]
[
Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Oh my fucking god! Oh my god! Oh my god! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck..! Holy fuck! Gone! Everything gone! Holy fuck! The music! It's so fucking loud! Oh my fucking god! Everything! Everything's flying around, glitching out, turning into fucking talking ducks! Things are burning and waving like mirages! Up is down! Space is a lie! Holy fuck! Holy fuck! I'm going to die here! Please for the ever living sake of something! I know these pre-edited transcripts go to site fourty! Please, for fucks sake! Send people out here. Oh fuck that's him, he's getting nearer! Send tanks! Big ass fucking tanks! Time is a lie! The past never happened! Reality isn't real! [REDACTED] It's all a lie! The only [REDACTED] Oh my fucking god the Earth! A hole just opened up down the hall! There's stuff climbing out of it! It's, it's' you wouldn't believe me, it's fucking potatoes! Potatoes with legs and, and, and arms and faces are crawling out of it! I'm SCP fifty two twelve {SCP-5212}! Please get me out of here! We're still alive! We're at site-[REDACTED] We're still alive! Please! What the fuck! What the fuck yourself! I'm staying in here. What the fuck are you doing!? It's linked to site forty, I'm asking for, ah! I'm Doctor Renolds of site-[REDACTED] class-B level four clearance. An instance of [REDACTED] has manifested around site-[REDACTED] I'm going to try to make it and set off the reactor. I understand and accept the procedures for [REDACTED] and will enact them emidiotly. I'm sorry kid. But I can't let you live. We can't let the host find us or [REDACTED] I hope you understand. But that's just for staff! We can't afford to take any chan-[INAUDIBLE] [PAUSED]
]
[END LOG: SS-4]

[BEGIN LOG: SS-5]
[
Welp. Another day goes by. It's been kind of weird lately though. A couple days ago I was at site-[REDACTED] and then the next morning, suddenly I find myself at a different site. I have no idea why. When I ask the guards about it they just shrug. I haven't seen Amy in about a week or two now. The guys here seem to be far and few between. Which I can only assume means that something happened and I was hit with a dose of forgetty-spaghetti after getting transferred here. Got none of the stuff I used to have, so I guess YouTube today is going to be a bust… Also, for some reason, when I woke up here, it was the same as the other times. Basic bed. Firm plastic mug next to a small sink. A couple sets of cloths. But, there was one thing that I've never seen during the other times I woke up like this. This time, there was a small plaque hanging by a screw on the wall by the door. I don't even know why. Really, why? It's just.. I small blank star… Not even a name… [PAUSED] I hope nothing bad happened to Amy. She was a pretty good shrink. [PAUSED] Dang. Here we go again…
]
[END LOG: SS-5]

INCIDENT REPORT: AERT-11
On [REDACTED] an incident regarding a highly classified anomaly occur at site-[REDACTED] resulting in the deaths of █ anomalies under foundation custody, ██ personnel and ██ injured. SCP-5212 was though to be a casualty of the event, and was thus briefly decommissioned until SCP-5212 was recovered on [REDACTED] SCP-5212 claimed to have been taken captive by the raiding Serpent's Hand forces, also recalling the death of Senior researcher Doctor Renolds via bullet wouldn't to the torso during a physical skirmish with SCP-5212. SCP-5212 claims indicate that Dr Renolds was attempting to break procedure protocol for [REDACTED] by terminating SCP-5212 as an extra precaution. After fleeing from site-[REDACTED] SCP-5212 claimed to have escaped the Serpent's Hand forced during the night of [REDACTED] and hiked to [REDACTED] where the anomaly rode in an industrial gas transport vehicle after inquiring the driver of the vehicle, Mr James Sanfell. Mr. James Sanfell's current residence and contact information is [REDACTED] SCP-5212 had been dropped off at the border of the shut down aria of roadway to the west of the site effected by the incident. SCP-5212 then turned itself back into foundation custody. It is of note that SCP-5212 had written and sent most of the message alerting the foundation to the manifestation of [REDACTED] due to video evidence on the foundation hard drives recovered from the bunker containing the site's security feed.

Foot note - "I think it's pretty obvious what's going on here. We took a child during a developmental stage, which his amygdala told him means he's alone. He's in a place where he feels his memories are unreliable due to knowing that the people keeping him can modify those memories at will. He hasn't stayed in a single place for a full year and the psychotherapist changed out depending of where he get's transferred, only cementing the idea of lone-ness. Combined with the fear of the other anomalies, regret for not being at home, and coming of age causing a desire for responsibility in a closed-off responsibility free environment? I'd say that the root of all this is probably the foundation causing prepubescent trauma leaving a negative subconscious view of the foundation and a positive conscious view of it caused from having to reason with himself over a long period of time. Basically, that emotional 'guard' we all have as kids, he couldn't take down for a while longer, which forces him to except his new situation. Metaphorically falling in love with his captors, he now has no choice but to except the foundation as his home. Depression isn't a mood, but is more of a way of thinking. It'll only heal with time and strategic care. I recommend keeping SCP-5212 contained in one place. No transfers. Probably more amenities wouldn't hurt. Internet chat rooms could potentially set the kid up for social skills. I also recommend cross-testing SCP-5212 with SCP-999 every two to three months. Aside from that, I got nothing. What do you expect, I just got out of college. I don't even have my masters. In all honesty, you shouldn't have hired me if I wasn't so cheap."-Psychoanalyst Amy Shcnell

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