gothoverheaven
rating: 0+x

Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: The individual components of SCP-XXXX are to be kept in separate boxes appropriately labeled, and then stored in separate storage lockers scattered throughout site ██. SCP-XXXX is to be assembled strictly during periods of testing by onsite personnel of Level 2 access or higher, with no exceptions.

Description: SCP-XXXX is the assortment of several pieces of one humanoid suit (head, torso, two hands, and legs respectively,) 152.4cm tall. The hands, headpiece, and feet all have rounded tips, giving the wearer an appearance not dissimilar to that of a starfish. The material of each piece is composed of two parts; The first being an inner shell, crafted from a hard, lightweight substance comparable to plastic. The second part is an outer skin that slips over the shell. It can be removed, and upon further examination, the skin is crafted out of a soft, leathery material, not unlike that of traditional animal leather. The leather itself is an unnatural hue of terracotta, and has no further distinguishing features apart from small, thin wrinkles, similar to the texture of human skin. Efforts to identify the exact material have proved inconclusive, though do appear to be biological in origin. Straps made from the same leather material are found at intersecting points of the suit, acting as a type of velcro that sticks to itself and holds the suit together. Each piece is lined with a white fur not currently belonging to any known living organism. SCP-XXXX has no tags, markings, stickers, or other methods of identification indicating any particular manufacturing company. SCP-XXXX does not show up on any manifest or other similar storage documents belonging to the park in which it was retrieved.

The headpiece of SCP-XXXX bears no recognizable human attributes. When observing SCP-XXXX from any distance, researchers have noted severe difficulty describing the costumes face, and become easily agitated when asked for specifics. Additionally, observers of SCP-XXXX become increasingly anxious the longer they are exposed to it, likening the feeling to being on stage in front of a large audience.

Despite it's observed limited height, wearers of SCP-XXXX of varying heights have described no physical discomfort or movement limitations. Rather, subjects wearing SCP-XXXX have reported hearing faint, whispering voices whose volume gradually increases the longer the subject remains inside. The voices themselves reportedly say nothing discernible or decipherable, but seemingly act as the compelling force that drives the subject to perform some form of entertainment for any nearby observers. Performances can vary between singing, a long Shakespearean soliloquy, above average acrobatics, and poor attempts at stand-up comedy. Once the performance has ended, the wearer will ask nearby observers for a rating of a numeric value, scaled from one to ten; Ten being the best rating, and one being the worst. Ratings given with a value of seven or more will cause the wearer to vocalize approvingly, and mention feelings of relief. At which point the wearer will remove the headpiece of SCP-XXXX, resulting in them vanishing entirely the moment the headpiece has separated from the rest of the body. The corpses of subjects that disappear in this manner will reappear a full twenty-four hours later, approximately 15.24m (50 feet) away from SCP-XXXX's current location, inexplicably and out of nowhere. Autopsies performed on these bodies reveal cause of death to be the rupturing of internal organs, as a result of immense blunt force trauma. Each body will have messages carved into the torso of the late individual, relating to the numeric value rating of their performance. Currently, the author(s) of these messages, as well as their location, and whether or not they are the one(s) responsible for the death of the performer, is unknown. These events are designated SCP-XXXX-1A.

Ratings with a numeric value of six or lower will cause the wearer to vocalize despondently, and mention feelings of disappointment and ineptitude. At which point the wearer will remove SCP-XXXX in reverse fashion, starting with the legs. Individuals that have survived an instance of SCP-XXXX in this way will exhibit symptoms of clinical depression, and if left untreated, will develop suicidal tendencies. These events are designated SCP-XXXX-2A.

Discovery: SCP-XXXX was first retrieved from [DATA EXPUNGED], Florida in the summer of 1972 following the documentation of ██ missing individuals; All of which employed under ████████, a since-defunct amusement park, during the time of their disappearance. Agent Munningham arrived to investigate the possibility of an undocumented anomalous entity, and through the foundation's efforts, SCP-XXXX was located and brought back to site ██ without incident. All employees previously familiar with SCP-XXXX were administered Class C amnesics.

Addendum: Audio log transcript between Agent Muningham and the only known survivor of an SCP-XXXX-2A event prior to it's retrieval.


Addendum: Test Logs with Dr. ██████ presiding.

[[collapsible show="+ Test Log A3" hide="- Test Log A3"]]
Subject:
Procedure
Results
Analysis

Document XXXX-1
Photograph of a dried graft of skin, with words carved into it's surface. It reads as follows:

A H E L L I S H C O M E D Y
T H A T E V E N D A N T E S N E A R S A T

Document XXXX-2
A scrap of paper with writing recovered within SCP-XXXX upon it's discovery. Testing has proved it to be non-anomalous.

Hope this can do the trick! Don't worry about returning it, Marcus says he doesn't even remember which show it's from so it's basically free game. It's not perfect, but it was the closest thing to a starfish I could find before opening night. I ran all over the park LOL.
I know you'll do great! See if you can find me in the crowd: I'll be judging you hardcore. ;)

- T