Interviewed: SCP-XXXX
Interviewer: Dr. Włodzisław Kruszewski, Sr. Researcher, Theology Division
Foreword: Interview was conducted in modern Russian. The passage below is a translation.
<Begin Log, 23 December 1989>
Dr. Kruszewski: So, Mr. Leizerovich—
SCP-XXXX: Please, call me Yisroel.
Dr. Kruszewski: Alright. So, Yisroel, what brings you here?
SCP-XXXX: Where else would I go?
Dr. Kruszewski: What do you mean?
SCP-XXXX: Well, where have I been?
Dr. Kruszewski: Are you going to keep answering my questions with questions forever?
SCP-XXXX: Ah, you're catching on! Well, let me mushel you a mushul. Once upon a time, back during the old Commonwealth, there was a man who lived out in a little town. This man found that through meditation, he could achieve dvaykus, and through dvaykus he could do small miracles.
Dr. Kruszewski: What do you mean, "small miracles?"
SCP-XXXX: You know, heal a peasant here, exorcise a dybbuk there, the sorts of things a small-town healer ought to be able to do. Of course, back in those days, most small-town healers couldn't do what they ought to. So word of this healer got around, and some of the sages of the region went to visit him. He started to develop a bit of what you might call a cult.
Dr. Kruszewski: A cult?
SCP-XXXX: "That man healed my daughter! I wonder what he has to say about mysticism! He can commune with the dead! Let's stay around him as his disciples!" Feh! …You need a specific personality to be a cult leader, and this man didn't—eh, no more use for the conceit, the man's me, I didn't have it. But there was another man who did. His name was Yaakov.
Dr. Kruszewski: Yaakov?
SCP-XXXX: Yaakov believed that he was the Moshiach. He believed it with all his heart. Like so many before, like so many after, he wasn't. Have you ever seen a limb amputated, doctor?
Dr. Kruszewski: Well, I—
SCP-XXXX: Sha, I can tell from your face you have. Well, if you have a diseased limb, then you can treat it, or it can fix itself, or you can pray for it, but the key is you still have hope that it will recover. But once the limb is amputated, that's it. It's gone, and it's never coming back.
Dr. Kruszewski: …I see.
SCP-XXXX: When Yaakov's followers all took the waters of impurity, I lost hope. I realized the danger that a cult of personality can bring to the people I held dear. I grew withdrawn and sickly. Of course, that was another small miracle.
Dr. Kruszewski: By that do you mean that your abilities were psychosomatically affecting your health?
SCP-XXXX: I was making me sick. And on Shavuos in 1760 I almost made me dead. But I couldn't.
Dr. Kruszewski: You couldn't make yourself dead, or you couldn't die?
SCP-XXXX: Neither. Suicide is an avaire, and I had lost faith in myself, not in God. And anyway, someone came along and took me first.
Dr. Kruszewski: We have your burial place on record.
SCP-XXXX: Ha! The Seers know how to leave a false trail. They cast one of their wonders on a poor man and made him look like me for the funeral, and dragged me off to Siberia.
Dr. Kruszewski: You were kidnapped by the Tsar's Seers?
SCP-XXXX: Evidently they had heard rumors of me, and wanted my power for themselves. I was in Polish territory, but that didn't stop the Russians.
Dr. Kruszewski: You jut described all of this great nation's history, man.
SCP-XXXX: Anyway, yeah, they kept me in a katorga for decades, trying to get me to spill the secrets of my Jewish magic or something. They seemed to think I knew how I did what I did.
Dr. Kruszewski: Did you?
SCP-XXXX: I was kept in that katorga for centuries. I was kept entirely isolated from the outside world. A small miracle — I didn't feel the beatings. I remember their screams of rage as they beat me and wounded me, but I laughed in their face. Eventually it became a joke. They would shout, "Eh, Zhid, eaten anything recently?" and I'd say "Same as usual, snow, lichen, and challah on Shabbes," and they would laugh and beat me and I would laugh and be beaten. Most of the nineteenth century is a blur.
Dr. Kruszewski: What happened in 1922?
SCP-XXXX: Oh, when the reds came? At first it seemed like a beacon of hope! The false king had fallen, the true king would rise! Ha! I'd seen messiahs before. Ve-hi she'umdu laavoysayni v-luni… When the purges began, and GRU-P took me, I saw they were just gilgulim of the Seers before them. Just as many beatings, only now I couldn't keep my siddur with me either.
Dr. Kruszewski: You were under GRU Division "P" custody?
SCP-XXXX: They tried their hardest to get me to crack. I'll admit, while they were just as cruel as the Seers, their cruelty was… subtler. I remember they said they would show me Mezhbizh. I hadn't seen it in years. I still haven't, because what they showed me wasn't Mezhbizh.
Dr. Kruszewski: Do you remember anything else from your time under GRU-P? Perhaps, from the Great Patriotic War era?
SCP-XXXX: If you're asking about what I think you're asking about, I don't want to talk about it.
Dr. Kruszewski: …I understand. Perhaps another time. How did you find out about us?
SCP-XXXX: Same way everyone else in the Division did — half-remembered rumors and hearsay. Someone mentioned you had a location in Poland, and when my camp was dissolved in November, I walked here.
Dr. Kruszewski: The nearest GRU-P Siberian camp is over three thousand kilometers away. How did you get here so soon?
SCP-XXXX: A small miracle.
<End Log>
Closing Statement: SCP-XXXX has proved compliant and amiable, and seems likely to be a valuable resource for our theology department as well as our dealings with remnants of GRU-P forces. Yet his reticence to discuss the period of the war stands out as suspicious to me. Further investigation of SCP-XXXX's origins and history seem necessary.
Per 
