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Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Due to its nature, SCP-XXXX cannot be contained in a regular facility. It is currently held in a classified location in Canada, in a room lined with rubber and plastic to prevent its electrical current from interacting with any personnel working around the containment site. The temperature must remain 21 degrees Celsius (average room temperature). In addition, the floor above SCP-XXXX must be empty, or SCP-XXXX must be contained at the very top floor so that its wiring may spread vertically and not horizontally. DO NOT CONTAIN SCP-XXXX IN A BUILDING WITH OTHER ELECTRONICS.
No living creature is allowed to enter SCP-XXXX’s chamber at any time. 24-hour surveillance is not required for the light itself, although cameras are present, but growth of the wiring into the upper chamber must be monitored at all times to ensure it does not get out of control. If the wires begin boring into the ceiling of the upper chamber, a maintenance worker must be sent in to clip them back. Clipping the wires with regular wire cutters proves to be impossible, but the growth can be temporarily slowed and turned the other way using soldering materials and pliers to bend the wire. Should the maintenance worker touch one of SCP-XXXX's exposed wires with his/her bare skin, he/she will be thoroughly jumped with approximately 1910 volts of electricity, and will, of course, drop dead immediately.
Description: SCP-XXXX is a light that appears to “flicker” indefinitely and with no specific pattern. Replacing the bulb inside of the light cover does nothing to stop the flickering, and neither does rewiring, or any other method which would fix an identical, non-anomalous fixture. This SCP was discovered in 20██, in the heart of ███████ ████████, Canada, by the Foundation when it was reported that a repairman who had been called to fix a light in the SCP's home apartment complex would not stop staring at the light, and could not be moved or spoken with.
The flickering varies in patterns seemingly unpredictably. Researchers have tried many ways of “decoding” the patterns. Morse code has been ruled out as attempting to translate any fraction of any pattern created by SCP-XXXX creates nothing but incomprehensible nonsense. Theories often circulate among researchers that it may be an alien language.
SCP-XXXX’s wiring attaches to the ceiling like any normal light fixture would, however it takes on an anomalous growth property which makes it extremely important to provide space into which it can expand. This SCP had embedded its wires so far across and into the ceiling it was previously attached to that it could not be removed without demolishing the building entirely and salvaging what remained of the SCP. The wires can be observed to lengthen themselves by replicating its own atoms and slowly “rolling” new wire from the inside out of each individual wire. The rubber sleeve is close behind, observed to roll from the inverse and slowly cover the new wires. To create one full inch of new wire takes SCP-XXXX an average of 8 days, 4 hours, 43 minutes, and 2 seconds.
SCP-XXXX claims living creatures as victims when the being makes direct eye contact with the light it emits. The victim becomes immediately enthralled by the light, moving closer at approximately 0.54 m/s until they are standing directly beneath or as close to SCP-XXXX as they can get. The victim will then become completely immobile, and within a matter of seconds will be entirely stiff and frozen in place. Upon attempting to move the victim, their body will feel like a stone statue to the touch. Their feet remain glued to the ground as if welded onto it. Four D-Class personnel surround the light currently. No method of removing them has been successful. Their vital signs are presumed dead as they do not breathe nor blink, and they do not eat or drink, but their bodies do not decompose.
Addendum: During a fault of new employees, researcher ████ ██████ was let into SCP-XXXX’s containment chamber to observe it. Unfortunately, he made the mistake of glancing directly at it for just a moment before he was transfixed on SCP-XXXX. He dropped his clipboard and all of his papers with it and approached the SCP at 0.54 m/s just as logged previously, before he stood completely still in the same lifeless, frozen pose as the D-Class personnel around him. No one has been sent in to attempt to move him. Luckily, he did freeze much closer to one of the cameras, and we can more closely observe the physical effects of SCP-XXXX.
It has been observed from this researcher's corpse that the eyes of the victim slowly grow cataracts over a period of time staring at SCP-XXXX. This, however, does not seem to dissuade them from looking, and this leads us to believe that actual sight has nothing to do with the way the SCP keeps its victims in place. Furthermore, due to the fact that ████ ██████ was wearing the required uniform for this sector, he was wearing a vital-monitoring system which the foundation may now use to observe his vitals while he is a victim of this SCP. The foundation has observed abnormally high levels of brain activity, akin to those which occur upon clinical death of a living being. However, while regularly those increased levels will only be active for approximately thirty seconds, this state is prolonged, and presumably permanent for a victim of SCP-XXXX.
At times, the facial muscles can be observed to twitch, primarily around the mouth. It is impossible to say whether or not the victims are attempting speech, or if this twitching is simply echoing what would occur naturally in a deep sleep. With time, the skin around the mouth grows dry and begins flaking off in extremely thin layers. New skin does not seem to regrow in its place, as far as has been observed.
Research is ongoing.
