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Special Containment Procedures: All Foundation staff are to receive a psychological examination every two weeks. Personnel who experience an SCP-XXXX event and are able to remember it are to make a detailed report of the interaction and submit it to senior staff. Senior staff who experience and remember an SCP-XXXX event should write and review a report with other senior staff.
Description: SCP-XXXX refers to a dream experienced by members of the Foundation with high levels of stress, grief, and/or psychological trauma. In the dream, the affected individual meets an entity, hereafter referred to as SCP-XXXX-1, which provides the individual with psychological counseling.
SCP-XXXX-1 is described as a roughly 5 m long mass of twisted muscle tissue resembling a human embryo. It possesses an elongated tail and forelimbs, which have reversed elbow joints that end in three finger-like digits. Its hindlimbs are disproportionately short, and end in 3 toe-like digits. 4 eyes with yellow irises are located on its head; 3 smaller eyes surround a central, larger eye. A band of entwined branches sits upon its head.
Despite its appearance, affected individuals report feelings of peace and comfort in SCP-XXXX-1's presence. After the SCP-XXXX event, the affected have significantly lower levels of stress, and express calm acceptance of past grief and trauma. Except for certain cases, all affected individuals cannot remember the SCP-XXXX event or their interactions with SCP-XXXX-1.
SCP-XXXX-1 is capable of foreseeing possible futures, and occasionally relays information to its subject. Due to SCP-XXXX-1's precognition, █ containment breaches have been preemptively prevented, and █ SCP objects have been discovered.
Addendum: Below is an excerpt from a report of an SCP-XXXX event submitted by Director Victor Woodworth on 2016/7/25.
…
I can remember the last interaction extremely vividly, due to what I presume is SCP-XXXX-1's effects. Before I woke up, I asked it why it gave psychological therapy to Foundation personnel. After all, our job is to contain anomalies such as itself. It seemed to think for a moment, then it spoke.
"Well, a child will protect its toys, no? And people will donate money to support artists they like. My actions are in the same vein."
I asked, "Then, is humanity a form of entertainment for you?"
"Precisely. Your lot are the most interesting things I've found in quite some time, and it'd be a shame to lose you," it replied. "Of the countless possibilities I've seen, many end in untimely disaster—and that's no fun. I wish to continue observing your struggles to survive, to watch how your emotions make motives, which drive your actions, and the achievements you attain at the end of it all. A tiny bit of effort for continued amusement is a fair trade, I'd say."
It approached me as it continued to speak.
"Besides, it is a benefit to you and your Foundation if I provide aid, is it not? My warnings have allowed you to prevent many disasters." It paused as it stopped before me. I felt as if it were smiling, despite its lack of a mouth.
"For example," it continued, "one of your precious objects have broken loose, just in time for a raid from your defectors. Run along now!"
Upon hearing those words, I woke up to the sound of blaring alarms.
…
