Error_In_Name

The Decay of Earth

Document Fully De-Classified by order of O5-█ and the Ethics Committee.
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Status: SCP Foundation Publicity

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Item #: SCP-XXXX

Object Class: Apollyon

Description:
SCP-XXXX is a black mass centered in Earth’s Core. It is estimated that SCP-XXXX is approximately 10 km in diameter and 6,182 km in length. SCP-5056’s current condition is unknown. Due to seismograph data limitation, it is estimated that SCP-5056 will surface at exactly 40.7128°N, 74.0060° W, and be approximately 1.5 feet in thickness.

SCP-XXXX’s estimated appearance is cylinder-like, with a black mass resembling mold and a growth pattern similar to a root. SCP-XXXX is traveling at roughly 10 km per year and will break Earth’s Crust in 19.2 years. Testings have shown that SCP-5056 possesses the ability to ‘absorb’ human bodies, integrating them into SCP-XXXXand becoming SCP-5056-1.

SCP-XXXX-1 is a humanoid limb of average human size that sprouts from SCP-XXXX. SCP-XXXX-1, when near another human will grab, scratch, lunge, and pull, attempting to pull the human into SCP-XXXX, further adding to protruding limbs. The human subject will then undergo immense pain and anguish. The Human will then begin to melt into SCP-XXXX. This is only if SCP-XXXX makes contact with Human Tissue.

SCP-XXXX-1 appears to be stationary, yet changes position once every day although testing in its movement has proven impossible.

Among grabbing and pulling, SCP-XXXX-1 also shows signs of extreme pain, often showing it through vocal communication. Upon exiting the Earth, SCP-XXXX-1 will scream profusely. Said screaming varies from victims and resembles previous victims’ vocals. Humans are able to read SCP-XXXX-1’s screams. When heard, the human will deteriorate their mental state as the screaming continues, causing them to merge to SCP-XXXX. Prolonged exposure could lead to permanent brain damage.

SCP-XXXX’s trajectory appears infinite and is estimated it will not cease until it engulfs all known available surfaces. SCP-XXXX’s speed is estimated to be 15 miles per day, resulting in a total circulation of Earth in approximately 1,660 days.

Special Containment Procedures:
SCP-XXXX cannot be fully contained. The Foundation has dug to it's underground level and seems to have ignored The Foundation's expedition. A 30ft thick, 5-miles in radius, titanium-steel circle is to be installed above SCP-XXXX in hopes it will stop.

Multiple expeditions inside SCP-XXXX have been made. All have proven to have a negative effect on SCP-XXXX. Last known attempts have been nuclear detonations and internal drilling into SCP-XXXX.

In the event of an SCP-XXXX surface, all personnel within a 10-mile radius are to evacuate. All civilians are to be notified of Site-56. All surviving life are to travel to Site-56 by any means necessary.

Site-56 possesses the only off-planet exploration project and the only hope of humanity’s survival. All personnel and civilians are to assist in “Project: Off-Planet Exploration” construction and training programs.

“Project: Off-Planet Exploration” is a program in which houses an atmospheric shuttle capable of Off-Planet colonies. personnel assigned to said project are to pilot, build, and maintain the shuttle. Any and all civilians within the launch date are to board immediately when told. If a civilian is not on board, they will be left behind as delay may result in the destruction of “Project: Off-Planet Exploration” and the human race.

Discovery:
SCP-XXXX was discovered in New York, New York, on September 15, 1837. Egyptian Digging companies unearthed the device, later to be learned the hard way that it was anomalous. The device was transferred to a New York SCP facility for anomalous properties and since has been Neutralized. Revealed data from the device indicated a growing mass inside Earth’s Mantle. It is estimated that SCP-XXXX originated roughly 3.8 Billion years ago. An exact parent is unknown. Further Origin is unknown.

Seismographs and Long-Distance X-rays have confirmed SCP-XXXXs presence in the late 1960s. Since SCP-XXXX’s discovery, contingencies, protocols, and projects have been assigned to deal with SCP-XXXX.

Nothing can stop it.
God save us all.

When Day Breaks Tale

Document Decommissioned by order of O5-██

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Welcome, User.

+ Pick up the Book, and Read Day 1

You pick up the book and start reading:

Day 1

…They…smell. All of them. I’m losing strength already. I don’t know what they are. What they all are. The farmers, the employees, everyone. Became… Slime. Stinky, shit-smelling slime. The smell. The smell. The smell. God it’s already driving me insane. I was in my basement when they turned. When they… Died? I’m not sure if you die. Maybe… You just scream. That’s what they do in my area. That’s all they do. All they do. All they do.
Food? None. Water? None. I’m not even sure where to get it- or what it looks like.
For all I know, there’s some down here: in the basement. With this journal, I now consider my diary. The lights may last a day or two with this backup power supply. God help me.
My home-base so far is here. When it all happened… When Day Broke, I walked up to watch some TV and rest. Then my skin bubbled. It was the most painful thing someone could feel… Like you were… Melting…
I have enough supplies for three days. That’s enough for me to plan. Plan. Plan. The Plan.

+ Read Day 2

Day 2

I figured it out. I did it. The… Administrator? Him. Yeah, him. He sent the letter. The notification. Through the radio.
Site-19? I don’t think they're gonna do it. Whatever they mean. Whatever they’re doing. Whatever. It. Is.
It’s dead. It’s dead before it can begin.

I need to stay alive. I need to live. To live. God their screams! Wait… Laughter?! How can you LAUGH!? HOW CAN YOU LAUGH IN THIS DAMN PLACE!?!?!

I’ve devised a plan. I have black fabric. I cut this into pieces to make a black-prison-onesy, sewn together by tape. I can wear it. I’m sure there’s food. Wait… AHAHA! A RAT!!! This should extend my food resources.
I don’t have a mask, sadly. Well, I’m going to walk out and see if it works. If it doesn’t? I might as well die.

+ Read Day 3

Day 3

I’ve decided to do an experiment. I’ve got a fourth of a loaf of bread. My last loaf… this shit better work! IT BETTER DAMN WORK!!!!! OTHERWISE I’M DEAD. WE’RE ALL DEAD! DEAD! DEAD! DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD—

I tossed the rat out. Wrapped in the fabric. I’ve tied a piece of string on it, so I can pull it back.
With my knife ready to plunge, and my steady yet feared fist, I waited. I waited for SOME movement. It. Just. Sat. Sat. Sat. SAT.

At last, I saw it move. It’s wretched body move. No screaming, no melting. It’s form seemed… to stay. I began to pull it back.
It squirmed.
It yelled.
It SCREAMED!

I was so mad. I yelled my loudest. I didn’t care how many blobs were about!! IT YELLED. IT YELLED!
I began pulling with all my might. My knife raised far above my head, ready to pour it’s silver fang deep into the monster’s head.

At last, it was inside. I shut the door with a slam that shook the earth, and tossed the rat out, blade in hand!
It was ALIVE!
IT’S ALIVE ALIVE ALIVE ALIVE ALIVE!!!!!

The cloth … it works. I locked the rat away. I suited up. The fabric… It works…

Black gloves duct-taped to my suit and my skin. Heavy industrial boots anchored to my feet. Duct tape sealed the gaps. I had goggles. Ski goggles. They’ll do!
With my suit, all black and my loaf of bread safely tucked away in equally black material, I headed out. GOD, IT WAS HOT! It began to cool, though. Throughout the day. My first move was to unravel the loaf. It began to blacken immediately but slowed. I set it down on the dirt and looked around.

Windows were broken out, streets cracked, and growing flora wrapped itself around everything, giving off an ambient ghost feeling. It was black. All of it. The only sense of color was my goggles and the sand. The road was beginning to become the surrounding flora.

I gazed down one of the streets. There it was. One of those people. My heart stopped, my blood pumped, and my heat left me. It. Looked. At. Me.
IT LOOKED AT ME OH GOD OH GOD NO NO NO NO NO !

I ran back inside. The building I was living in, demolished. The only standing part was a wedge with a door on one side. Not suspicious at all, right?
I waited for what seemed like decades before I heard wet, slobbery breathing.
“I know you’re in there” was the response. “Come out and play! The weather is just perfect!”

I knew it was a lie.

With all my strength and rage, I clasped my knife and threw open the door! The figure fell downwards. I lunged at it, gaining the upper ground. It squirmed. It shook. It tried to escape. I wouldn’t let it. I began slashing.

Over and over I hit it. Cut it. Bruised it. My hands bloodied, her face shreds of meat and wax. She kept squirming. Yelling. Screaming. I kicked her down farther and ran up. The door was wide open! OPEN! OPEN OPEN! I HAD TO CLOSE IT!!
And so I did. She grabbed my shirt and tried to push me out. I fell on the dirt ground, exhausted. She was ripping off my clothes, however poorly. With a swift kick, I threw her back in and swiftly anchored the door shut. Then the fun began.

I slashed. I cut. I bruised. I killed her.
It took everything. But now I have more time to stay up at night and plan.

+ Read Day 4

You seem nervous to continue. The variety scares you.

Day 4

Due to last day’s violence and idiocy, I decided it would be best to view the bread as swiftly as possible. I fed the ladies’ chunks to the Rat. I waited for a response. Nothing yet. Even as I write, nothing has happened. I’m looking over at it right now, and it’s just staring at me, longingly.

Alright. Enough was enough. I suited back up, making sure every crack and cranny was taped up. I opened the door slowly, looking for any one of those things. Nothing. I looked back over at the bread. Charred to a crisp. No matter, I took it in.

I needed some good news. The lights went out today. I had a couple spare Kerosene, candles and a Hurricane Lamp. These should do me good. An old box of matches with no more than five was also discovered. Huh. Better than nothing, I guess.

I need to wait.

Today was boring. Cards were getting on my nerves and the Rat hasn’t changed since.

+ Read Day 10

Day 10

I haven’t written in here for a while. Life was boring. No activity. A stash of Emergency Beans was discovered. My supplies grow to last another five days. The rat hasn’t done anything. I’ve been feeding it the flesh to see what would happen. Nothing. Halfway in, I decided it best to feed it the bread. Nothing happened.

Oh well. Dying inside this basement would be better than turning into one of those things. My decision was made. The bread would be consumed.

+ Read Day 15

Day 15

Nothing has changed. I guess you can eat bread and flesh. God it tasted horrible!
The bread tastes like some god forbidden burnt marshmallow, but with extra rotten eggs. I nearly threw up it was so bad!
The flesh felt like a smoothie. Tasted like Pork. I miss that smell. Glorious food on the table, prepared and cooked.

This shelter can’t hold me soon. I need to get out and travel. So I went outside.
My suit fitting snug against my skin, I waded out. Just like before, I looked up and down the main street. I saw someone. Not wax, but full. I ran over to see. He was badly beaten and his suit was torn. Damn genius made a second layer out of cotton. Heavy but harder to tear.

When I reached my home and laid him down, he spoke. Something about Site-19? He repeated this for hours. Site-19. Site-19. Site-19. Site-19. Then he muttered words I’ll never forget, “Never again will we Live.”

His grave lies beside my shelter.

+ Read Day 17

Day 17

Before I buried the survivor, I stripped him down for supplies. It’s a harsh world. Pleasure is just a waste of time these days.
I found a light gas-mask and a strange… brown-ish gun. Looks like something from Portal. The lights above glow yellow, and a serial number is written on the back with the works, “Site-19, SCP-001-A Anti-Matter Gun”

An Anti-Matter gun? I remember when I slashed the woman’s body. It seemed like centuries before she collapsed. I’ll test it out later.

Food supplies are running low. I’ve got some seeds, the mask, the gun and some new gear.

I’ll find a good place to leave. I think I saw a backpack in the debris.

+ Read Day 18

Day18

I found the pack. Beaten and torn. Nothing good ol’ duct tape can’t fix!

I decided today is the right day. Nothing has changed. Sand rustles slowly over the horizon. I’ve also found an Audio File of SCP-001, or as they call it, ‘When Day Breaks’.

My heart faded rapidly when I finished reading the file. Bunkers won’t work. Nothing will. The only answer is to colonize on the surface. It’s strange, I know. The sun can easily turn you, and two mush-monsters can combine to make those shit-smelling sludges on day… . . 1. I’m even forgetting my days. Dates. Time. I’m forgetting everything!

It’s been so long. Looking back, I’ve been losing my mind. Makes sense, I guess. This place smells of feces and urine. The walls are covered with wax-like flesh and blood. The rat lay dead in its cage. It’s time.
It’s time to leave.

Finally, I get some excitement.

+ Read Day 19

Your eyes blur slightly. Your thoughts fight over fiction or non-fiction.

Day 19

It took me a day longer than expected. My rations are dwindling. The suit took hours to get on, and the gun took tenfold as many hours to figure out how it works.

Its ammo is unlimited… As long as it gets light, it will never run out of ammo. The mask had some holes. My throat feels scratchy. Maybe from all the sand when I was out there. Whatever it may be, the air is not very friendly it seems. I’ve been losing my voice. No shit.

I left two hours ago. My town, once colorful and pretty, became a barren wasteland filled with nothing but black flora and gray buildings. To my surprise, I saw a skeleton. Huh. I would’ve thought he got turned. There’s nothing on him. Was there? Hm… Am I the only one?

+ Read Day 20

Day 20

I came across a turned. I’m calling them that now. “Turned”. But mostly things. So-o-o creative. This gun was a miracle from heaven. When I pulled the trigger, a loud bang followed by a fist-sized blast shot out. It created a hole right in it. A hole bigger than a bowling ball!

My luck never runs out. I should always keep my guard up. This seems too good to be true.

I took all that this tiny pack could fit. Cans upon cans. Tape roll upon Tape roll. Loaf after Loaf. One wool blanket. The radio. My pack seemed like it was gonna burst.

One hour, the radio buzzed to life. I was sitting on a rock, trying to wipe off my sweat. It mentioned ‘Un-London’. If bunkers didn’t work, how do you expect London to make it!?

No matter. I’m alive, and I probably will be. Until I’m the last one, and they come for me. Even if they try to get me, the gun is still able to be pointed at the user… You can see where this is going…
It'll be painless. Better than spending eternity in those things.

I planted a Chestnut seed in front of my shelter before I left, right on top of the old man’s grave. Heh, like hell it’s going to grow out here.

+ Read Day 25

Your thoughts gleam over why the O5 kept it hidden.

Day 25

My days are getting longer. My time is heavenly. The attacks seem ever-growing. I came across a mold. 12 people in it max. Part of it was lodged inside an open steel door. I took a couple of shots. All but one hit. Jeez this recoil! It tried to rip my clothes off. The holes I made in it radiate off. Brown crust sealing the gaps inside. It looked down at it and let out a horrific scream. I fired as much as I could. It took forever, but it’s dead now. Burnt to a crisp.
I did my best. This gun never runs out of ammo. I read that basic firearms are no good.
Then what is this gun?

The mob was thin. No bigger than my chest. I fired until it died. Then more until it was shriveled until it became what it is in front of me as I’m writing this.

I decided to explore the bunker. I found a gun on the ground and a hand. What the hell? Why would there be a hand!? I caught the glimmer of a ring on her finger. I better not mess with it, or the computer on the desk. Bunkers are a death-trap. No way in or out. The Things always know. They always know where the exits are. Always…
Little food was present, and I don’t think I can carry this mold mattress, Heh.

+ Read Day 30

Day 30

I’m writing less and less. My chest grows boney. My face shrunk. I need more food. I need more rest. I’ve been sleeping few hours, gun in hand. I trained myself to wake up if there is any sound. Any sound at all I wake up and kill. It’s the only fun now.

I reached a small town. My last hope. A glistening hull shimmered upon it all. I can’t believe it. It’s an actual working town! I’ve been saved!! Black uniforms with night-camo. Gas Masks that make you crumble. Guns that nobody could craft.

I almost got shot they were so surprised. They said nobody made it out alive. I told them my story and showed them this diary. They asked to see the gun. I refused.

They didn’t stop. I had no choice but to attack. They shot at me. I ran. I got caught. No matter what they did to me, I still kept the gun, tucked tightly in my arms, like what you do in Basketball. Or when you're getting mugged. You tuck yourself in and hold your belongings. That’s what I did.

When they asked me about my weapon, I said it has been the only thing keeping me alive. I showed them its power. They grew greedy. I ran. I managed to escape.

Towns are anarchy. Note to self: Trust Nobody. Not even yourself.

+ Read Day 50

Day 50

My journey is coming to an end. My sanity is fading. My breasts are tight, my skin like hide over a drum, I am dying. I am dying.

I found a supply of food these past 20 days. Just a small one to keep myself going. Maybe a bunker was a good option? No. No way. Nobody could live in there. I get to travel. I get to live and see the world. I come across the sand. Sand more sand and sand. I even found Seattle. I could barely recognize it. The space needle toppled over it seemed. Fresh food still inside their freezers. Don’t mind if I do!

I saw the water. I barely had any water left in my pack. I’ve been gathering it from closed wells and stealing it from bunkers, active and non. Actually, I don’t think I’ve seen an active bunker.

The water. All black. I took a step on it. My foot hit a surface. The water. Water. Hard as a rock. Never to drink again. The oceans. Dried. The food. Dried. The people. Turned and savage.

There is nothing for me here.

+ Read Day 100

You can't believe the struggle people will face when it happens. You wonder if it already happened.

Day 100

This will be my last entry. Everything is dead. Everyone. A broadcast from Un-London again. “We have fallen. Humanity is dead. If you’re hearing this, you’re alone. You are dead.”

That’s it. The world. Dead. All of it. Torture. All of it.

Life, Flowers, Color, Grass, Trees, Rivers, and Streams. All gone. I am the last one.

I am already dead. Walking death.

My last wish is to visit my old home. My house. I wish to die there and not inside the things. It took me nearly 20 days. Strange, it took me 80 to explore.

I found my home. Just as I left it. Shambles. It’s white paint dusted and blackened. The ground sand. But the seed. It grew.

Standing before me is a Chestnut Tree. I ran over and touched it. It’s bark cut my gloves and my skin. I withdrew my hand and tucked it away in my useful arm. I took my mask off. I didn’t even hesitate. I did not burn. It felt good. All of it.

I took my teeth and sunk them deep into its trunk. My gums bled. I didn’t feel it, but my hand caught it. I was dead. I always had been.

From the beginning to the end. We were already dead. My gun. It didn’t find often use. I found no more wax monsters. I was free. I took off all my clothes until my T-shirt and nylon shorts shone as the only color. No burn. No bubble. No pain.

I was free. I am free.

We are free.

+ Turn to the Last Page

You turn the page, only to see the white hard-cover of the back-end.

You have read enough. With this new knowledge, you could leave or re-read the diary.

+ Walk Out of the Room

You leave the room almost fearful. Why would the O5 keep it hidden for so long? Why a Level 5 clearance?

It was then that you noticed the familiar sound of a chambering pistol behind you.
Before you could react, you heard a loud click.
Your eyes see nothing but black, and the truth is beheld.