Lord I need a drink, thank god its lunch…
Can't believe I'm stuck working on this… 15 years of experience with the coalition and they put me on some run-of-the-mill wormhole anomaly.
If I'd stayed on for around seven more years, I'd probably be in Russia talking to Putin about how we should go about blowing up that gundam on Jupiter, but no, I had to get squeamish from shredding a chair into sawdust.
I was really fucking excited to work here too, like some off the shit here is pretty awesome, in a literal use of the word. I must have read hundreds of these articles on my spare time, and there's still tens of thousands I have not read and probabaly never will read because its 'clearance level 9' or however high these rankings go.
Shit, I'm outta lichor. Now I gotta get more from Valentino.
I've never really thought about this before but how in gods name do we get radios to work between dimensions? Like are they powered by the souls of dead aliens or something? Like i know we'd probably call it something like ectoplasmic residue or something, but some scientology bull is the only way I can imagen that wor-
"Hey Seraph, you finished XXXX's document yet? Site director said the dead line was tomorrow, yeah?"
Dr Seraphim. Does she think I spent 4 of my teenage years studying metaphysics, silicon-based life and Canine physics in the wanderer's librar- now that I think about it those are mostly useless in my reality, fu-
"Oh, yes Lucial, I -uhm- just finished it. You haven't seen Officer Valentino around have you? I was going to ask him if he- could… give me workout tips? Because, uhm, do you remember the time when he was fighting those crocodile-parrot things and he kicked one through the air? No? Well, that got me thinking, wow, that guy's got some pretty great calfs, he could really help improve…"
"…"
"…"
"Listen, Sera, I know you've only been with us for less a year, but, all the 939's died off years ago."
"Wait really? They need to update some of the files here."
"Sorry Mr 'G.O.C.', but when you have tens of thousands of anomalies catalogued, its hard to keep them up to date. Especially when one considers the fact that we actually bother to study and keep them alive long enough for observable changes to occur
I swear if Dr Cross, if you start talking about those fishing boats again-
"Never mind any of that nonsense, what really matters is that the only reason you'd be looking for Valentino is if you were going to raid his supply. I don't know if the GOC's policies are looser but here at The Foundation, we pride ourselves…
I am so sick and tired of all of you talking down to me like I'm a sociopath, or a bararian, or like I was part of the UIU or whatever.
…[sigh]…
…calm yourself Serphim…
…imagine you are at your desk…
…you turn on your computer…
…you sign in to your steam account…
…boot up…
…i dont know…
…the sims? or something?…
…you make a new house in the sims…
…lucial is their…
…so is valentino…
…and that junior researcher who was crying like a little bitch because you kicked that little eye pod
thing…
(note to self when coming up for a nickname for an SCP, make it something clever like i-pod but with
e-y-e..)
…
The hell was I thinking about their?
Killing these idiots in the sims?
Man, I really am a petty asshole, huh?
When is she going to stop talking so I can get a drink?
"-so how about it, Sera?"
"huh? Oh, of course Dr Cross, I am as reliable as they come. You can count on me for what you have
just said."
"Alright, well, I'll see you at 6 then?"
"Yes. I will see at 6 PM to do that."
"AM."
"What?"
"6AM. You'll… be there by then, yes?"
"Of course, yes, yes."
"…"
Thank Christ thats done. Damn, I probably should have listened to what she was saying… Well at least it'll probably be more interesting then writing the exploration log for SCP-XXXX. I already know whats going to happen, we'll get a little orange lab rat, well send him in with a phanny back and a magic radio, he'll be mildly creeped out at first, then he'll see flickers of a dark ominous monster, start pissing himself, and die a sad death.
There's a moral upside to the GOC right?? They don't send normal civilians to there deaths in the stomachs of eldritch gods, they throw a few nukes in like real heros. (probably manage to make it worse but whatever)
Who the hell are these chaos insurgency guys anyway? I've read some old files about them and I heard plenty of stories about anomalous terrorists before, like the serpents hand, and I'm pretty sure slacktivists at mana charity partake in light eco terrorism sure, but these guys just seem like they were pricks. No real reason for doing what they did, no endgame. They could have destroyed the vale at the height of their run, but they never did, which is weird because you'd think they wouldn't care about something like that if there goal was chaos like in the name .
Didn't they also have a motto? "does red fist of vagrants rase its head to shake us?" No, no, it was something about the pestalence or something… Oh, it was " Should intermittent vengeance arm again his red right hand to plague us?" I really shouldn't bother even thinking about this, if there is a master plan, a grand scheme behind this phenomena, then I shouldn't bother with it. My job as a researcher is to find out how it happens not why.
…
Though…
Just a little bit of a fantasticle story, something to- just a lure on the end of the line to compel me into following through the rabbit hole… I guess you could call this desire to break out of the orderly routine of writing articles on petty trinkets for five or so people in the same poisition as you to read, a smaller, more personalized, chaos…
…
Why am I thinking about half-backed philosophy? I am literally lost in a bunker filled with monsters.
Christ, it feels like I've been walking for ages…
Can't believe I'm still getting lost after working here for nearly a year…
I must have accidentally wandered into the senior staff quarters, because they're probably the only department that the higher ups would spend money on to carpet the damn floors. Ok, why does every site I've been to have this dirty-bunker aesthetic, even the above ground ones have hardly any windows. It's not really necessary, yeah, but I think if we got some money together, we could renovate the place. Though I guess it's harder to wash blood out of carpets. I'd be happy if we could get a few bean bags in the break room.
I seriously do not know where I am. Well, this is what happens after years of exposure to amnestics and anti-memes. I asked why I was working on XXXX but I already know. It's because of my condition. Because I am literally a scatter brain. Even if I was working on an interesting SCP, I'd probably be more concerned with coming up with a clever nickname before Lucile.
I wonder what the hell she was talking about…
Is that a window? Theres no way I wandered up to the surface…
…Wait.
Oh. Oh, shit.
This is Doctor E. gan Seraphim, head researcher on SCP-XXXX, uh… date of entry into the anomaly was June 8th, 2018, this is… embarrassing to admit, but I seem to have accidentaly entered SCP-XXXX while wandering the halls of Site-82. Though, I believe it's better me then any other researcher, as due to having a SRA equipped, micro-implant embedded in my brain, (the primary functions of this implant are long-term memory storage and providing protection from minor memetic anomalies, which my mind is riddled with).
This will serve two functions during my exploration of this dimension, which I shall refer to as SCP-XXXX-c, the first being upon my… inability to escape SCP-XXXX, I will be able to upload a file including exactly 1hrs worth of my thoughts to the foundations Scip.net, (Although I am unsure whether or not it will successfully upload, as I don't know if it works across dimensions.) The second use is mearly hypothetical, but it was been hypothesised that SCP-XXXX-c is currently in the process of a ZK-class reality failure scenario, and if this is true, without something to anchor my local reality, my mind and body would begin to degrade under its affects, possibly transforming me into an instance of SCP-XXXX-b.
OK, uhm, SCP-XXXX-a-2 has led me to a location similar to a foundation Site, noticable differences so far, include:
- what was originaly believed to be a carpet, on closer inspection appears to be fleshey growths similar to the inner lining of a human lung, yet are dry to the point where no moisture can be felt.
- I have been walking through a dimly lit corridor with no exit or end within sight. The only irregularity I have come across while walking through this corridor was a plain glass window that made me realise I was not in our reality any more.
The world outside is upside down. Like how you would imagine digging a hole to Australia as a child and coming out upside-down. I seem to be the only object affected by gravity differently, likely because I am anchored to our realities version of gravity. This serves as further proof that this reality is parallel to our own.
The scenery outside is earth-like in appearance. I saw trees, cliff formations, and an ocean, the noticable difference, however, is the fact that the sea and sky nearly glows red. If I were in our reality I would conclude that there is an enormous amount of sulfur in the atmosphere, or that the universe is rapidly expanding and the red hue is the result of red-shift. But this place probably doesn't play by the same rules as our own. I'm pretty sure there isn't any sulphur in the atmosphere of the mock site at least, because no amount of reality anchoring will save me from acidic gas.
The only reason I am not currently still observing the world through the window, is because it dissappered. The window I mean, probably not the world. I have detected some sort of anti-memetic anomaly emitting from the end of this hallway.
(If I get back.)
Uhm… approximatly 10-15 minutes later after wandering the same hall way and observing no changes or instances of SCP-XXXX-b, I'm bored. Is this really it? I wandered into a magic portal and all I find is a topsy-turvy world with a red-tinge. Can't say it's not what I expected, but isn't there more to life then this? Walking down a hallway with little glimpses of some eldritch horror until You reach the end? When you expect to find a big twist only to see nothings there? Only to find out everything was for nothing? I tried so hard and got so far. But in the end, it doesn't even matter. I had to fall to lose it all. But in the end it doesn't even matter. (Note: Mental state possibly degrading to the state of an horny teenager trying to impress a hot goth chick. (Double Note: No, I did not personally go through a period of time wherein I tried to impress a hot goth chick, but if I did there would definitly be a misses doctor Seraphim))
…
I'm real thirsty now…
…
I wonder what Lucial is doing now… probably getting her brains blown out by a charred ball sack in black camo. Judging by the size of Site-82, it'll probably take them thirty or so minutes to travel through it, while occasionally stopping to blow up the junior researchers. I doubt our security team will really do any good against them, we're understaffed, under-gunned, and we have idiots like Valentino who are under-payed for a reason.
No, I'm sure Lucial will be fine. She's a professional after all. She can be a little up-her-own-ass at times but, she's still a pretty good colleauge to work with.
…
Shit. I'm going to die here aren't I? I know I'm suppossed to be a professional, but whenever your writing your exact thoughts down, it's hard to put on a brave face. Earlier on I was thinking about how the D-class are the unlucky bastards that have to put up with being lab rats running around these interdimensional mazes, but sometimes you hear about a reasearcher, who out of the blue gets sucked into the space between worlds, or a timeless world where they slowly lose all they're memories. Actually, I'm still better off then them. At least I have a semblance of order, a sticking post to screw my courage to, I get to die with my self intact.
Now I know I'm mentally regressing, I'm quoting Macbeth for christ sake.
Ok, ok, ok, I, uhh, can see the end now, just faintly but it's something. I can detect the anti-meme up ahead, closer I get to it the stronger it becomes, but by my scientific calculations my implant should protect me for long enough to find XXXX-a-1.
So far no instances of SCP-XXXX-b have been spotted, I assume all instances are behind me, or at Site-82.
Holy Mary, mother of God, deliver us from evil and- oh crap, what was it… forgive us our… No, can't remember the whole thing, strange because I was raised as a catholic, possibly an actual sign of mental degradation? Or losing my faith in God because he sent me to this shit hole?
(Note: Dispite the fact that no fecal matter is visible, this place smeals real nasty.)—Dr Seraphim
Running as fast as I can, so not very fast. Maybe I actually should get a fitness regimine going.
Welcome, Doctor
SSHIT, SHIT, SHIT, WHAT IS THAT
For the sake of simplicity, during the interview, the doctor shall hence forth be refered to as Dr. E. Gan, and my existance shall be fittingly refered to as the Seraphim,-
I have entered a… what appears to be the interior of catholic church covered in… covered in the previously mentioned fleshy protrusions, now along the ceiling and walls of the room, yet no longer flaccid in appearance, now fully moisturized, uhm, in front of the pulpit is a… there is a… an… almost egg-like organism, approximatly 8ft in height hanging from the end of, what seems to be an umbilical cord like structure-
-although you will most likely refer to me as SCP-XXXX-d in subsequent documentation.
I can hear the voice of the organism in my mind, making it likely that it is the source of the anti-memetic anomaly and has used it to prob my mind, attempting to steal or make copies of my thou-
Dear doctor, I must assure you I have nothing but love and admiration for you, now please, if you would take a seat at the table, so we may begin the interview log.
…
Interviewed: [Dr E. Gan, interviewing for The SCP Foundation]
Interviewer: [The Seraphim, SCP-XXXX-d, from The Bowels of the cwyrm known as 'mary'. ]
Foreword: [ In return for answering my questions, I shall answer the good doctors questions. ]
<Begin Log, [Time:N/A]>
Dr E. Gan: So, SCP-XXXX-d, what do you want from me.
SCP-XXXX-d: Dr, can you please explain to me what the word God means?
Dr E. Gan: Well, uh, what constitutes a god varies from religion to religion, some would say that a god is a supernatural entity that can not be killed by a mortal and can alter reality or something, while others would say that God is whatever created the life or the universe.
SCP-XXXX-d: A-HAA! That's what it means! Of course! Thank you Doctor, you've cleared that little issue up for me.
Dr E. Gan: Ok, now I get to ask, how do I get back to my dimension. Where is the exit from this place. Actually, no, where are we, what is this place?
SCP-XXXX-d: My goodness doctor! What strength you possess! Even though you are wrongfully terrified of this place, you still wish to pursue knowledge of it! Then I shall tell you doctor, what you perceive as a corridor is in reality a wyrm, a serpent that has failed to become a dragon, and because of its failure, "god" has sentenced her to wander the void for an incalculable amount of time. Now I shall ask you doctor, why are you afraid of that which loves you?
Dr E. Gan: What?
SCP-XXXX-d: Why do you wish to leave us Doctor? In this place you can be provided with everything you want. Nurishment, oxygen, and I can guarantee your insatiable thirst will be quenched. If only you'd stay Doctor.
Dr E. Gan: Well, there's a simple answer really. This place is gross as all hell. Sorry, but my understanding of reality is far different from this place, so you'll have to forgive me for not wanting to live in your red nightmare realm.
[SCP-XXXX-d stares into our soul]
Dr E. Gan: What does all of this have to do with The Chaos Insurgency? How does a story about a giant snake in the void between worlds have to do with-"
SCP-XXXX-d: Fecal matter.
Dr E. Gan: Sorry, I don't think I heard tha-
SCP-XXXX-d: The remains of the astral sludge which has been digested in my mother Mary's bowls, and cast through space and time to find you, Doctor. She is old and blind thus all she is capable of is opening her maw in an attempt to capture you. She knows you're at the foundation, but not exactly
Dr E. Gan: Elaborate. Why would 'astral sludge' manifest itself as the burn victim ward playing soldier?
SCP-XXXX-d: Because that is what you expect to come out on the otherside, that is how it will be, Doctor. Because you just told me that's how it is, that is how I shall make it. Thank you, Doctor.
Dr E. Gan: Wait, no… If I'm in the crevace between worlds right now then-
SCP-XXXX-d: //Space and time exist differently here Doctor, you should realise now that the reason the chaotic remains of nothingness have taken form, is because you have told me that that is the form they take. There should not be a world in the void beyond my mother, but it is their, Doctor. Because you belived that there would be a world beyond it, just like yours. //
Dr E. Gan: My implant, the reality anchor, it brought order to the chaos of your void.
SCP-XXXX-d: No, no. I believe it was you that brought chaos to nothingness. Only your beautiful mind could have done this Doctor. No machine created to stop lesser minds from drawing their vision on a plain canvas, could defeat you who would so easily paint upon the air itself. You are God here, Doctor. And I your first angel, I am your Seraphim.
Dr E. Gan: Like hell you are. Screw this "master of your own world" crap, screw your Egg fu looken' ass, and screw this Dr E. Gan bull-
Dr E. Gan Dr Seraphim: - I'm Dr Seraphim, under-payed foundation researcher, not the god of your new dimension.
please God, don't hate us, we love you, we need you…
[ALERT: INFO-HAZARD SIMILAR TO THE Berryman-Langford Memetic Kill Agent DETECTED, PLEASE PREPARE FOR ADMINISTRATION OF ANTI MEMETIC AGENTS AND SEDATIVES]
Dr. Seraphim: Oh [DATA EXPUNGED], guess I've run before my motor skills are cut off and my brain turns to jelly
If you leave we will hunt you, Lord, You and your people, you know of the skirmishes, but as time progresses our knowledge and power will grow, your lingering thoughts, your desires, they fuel us, until our greatest warrior, with power and mind to rival your own, will take your name. We will bear your fruit, that which the drakes who swim through the patterns of reality have denied us, even if to do so we must rip your mind asunder to feast from its tree once more. Thank you for your love, Father, but I require more.
Dr. Seraphim: [REDACTED], nose bleed, your really good at- hah- reusing old memetics, my minds been exposed to- hnngaah- I had no idea it was possible to- gaaah!-… have laboured breath in your head but… guess thats what having your brain struggle bbetween A meme and n anti-meme…
oh fudge legs down… harber to thik… campt thin…
No NOn- nonono NON- I- No I'm don't wanna be eaten be a dpace wormm…
[OVEREXPOSURE TO MEMETIC KILL AGENT, CARDIAC ARRESST IMMENENT]
Oh… Balls, whst… was ssaying… what was… what did she say? Drink? Drinks? God I still need to get that drink…
[USER BRAINWAVES FAIDING, ESTIMATED TIME UNTIL TERMINATION: 10 MINUTE(S)]
Thirsty…
<End Log>
**Closing Statement:shit
Per 
