OttoWeston

Item #: SCP-4712

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: When not being actively studied in the laboratory, SCP-4712 is to be secured in its specifically constructed, reinforced lockbox with foam lining. Any consumption of SCP-4712-2 must be pre-authorised and logged, superfluous quantities incinerated.

Experimental logs and data must be duplicated and shared between the SCP-4712 team and the Thermodynamic Research Group.

Section 1: SCP–4712 (Bottle)
In the simplest terms, SCP-4712 is a bottle. It is constructed out of a dark brown glass, akin to pre-WWII beer bottles, however this original colour can only be observed by uncorking it and revealing the bottle mouth due to growths obscuring the rest of the bottle. These growths, classified as SCP-4712-1 and discussed in Section 2, appear to be barnacles and coral covering every centimetre of the bottle’s surface apart from the lid and requiring the use of thick gloves to safely handle.

Intensive scans reveal that the bottle’s source was the Anchor Brewery in Southwark, London. Whilst it is unknown exactly when this bottle was produced in the four hundred year-long history of said brewery, most experts put it between 1720 and 1790 due to composition and style. It must be noted that a couple researchers have attempted to correlate this proposed construction date with changes in ownership and management of the brewery that occurred in that period but these lines of research have been suspended due to lack of evidence beyond the circumstantial.

The bottle itself contains a liquid, classified as SCP-4712-2 and detailed in section 3, which has swiftly become the focus of most experiments to do with SCP-4712 to the point that most believe the liquid should be reclassified as the primary SCP with the bottle categorised as an agent for its delivery. Regardless, when any quantity of SCP-4712-2 is removed from the bottle, the bottle refills to its original level which has subsequently been determined to be 473 millilitres with a refill rate quantified at 0.03ml per second. The source of the liquid was swiftly identified, it appears as droplets of condensation on the internal surface of SCP-4712, how that happens is yet to be explained. No discernible changes in atmosphere, temperature, electromagnetic fields or mass occur whilst this process is underway, which either constitutes a violation of the laws of physics or through a process yet to be identified. Multiple scientists have noted that if this behaviour is a constant, it technically means that SCP-4712 can prevent the heat death of the Universe.

Section 2: SCP-4712-1 (Growths)
It isn’t unusual to find growths of barnacles and coral on bottles recovered from shipwrecks, however, when damaged or deliberately abraded in attempts to reveal the bottle’s surface, the layer will eventually regrow. This recovery occurs at a pace consistent with varieties of coral and barnacles local to the Great Barrier Reef. This recovery inevitably occurs, even when the bottle’s surface has been scoured entirely, sterilised with gamma radiation and kept in a vacuum sealed chamber.

In a notable case, a titanium container was constructed to the exact dimensions of the bottle sans growths, into which the bottle was placed after being scraped clean. The growths developed regardless, inexorably boring into and out of the container. This caused issues when it prevented access to SCP-4712 and SCP-4712-2 and concerns were raised that trying to extract SCP-4712 from the ruined titanium casing might result in its possible damage or even destruction. This was eventually resolved when the bottle was freed with the careful usage of laser cutters.

Section 3: SCP-4712-2 (Liquid)
The liquid was initially tested and examined under full quarantine conditions for the purposes of safety until it was confirmed that it contained no contaminants, toxins or pathogens. A full liquid analysis of its ingredients revealed it to be a dark beer. Further tests showed that the alcohol content sat at 5.4% and it contained 0.46 calories per ml and came out in a consumable condition as if recently brewed rather than aged 220+ years as indicated by the age of the bottle. After repeating all previous tests on multiple batches of liquid produced from the bottle to ensure consistency, it was decided that the next experiment should be a taste test. This was done with a strict adherence to protocol and detailed in Log #4712-2-A.

+ [Log #4712-2-A]: 

D-2214 is a 24 year old Caucasian female of slight build, dark hair and nervous personality. Gained Class-D status due to clumsiness which resulted in the destruction of SCP- and her subsequent demotion. D-2214 is sat alone at a table in an isolation room with a measuring glass containing 472ml of chilled 4712-2 placed in front of her. She is observed from an adjacent chamber through one-way glass and communicates with SCP-4712 Research Group through a speaker system and a microphone affixed to her lapel.

Hunched over slightly and looking down at the glass in front of her, D-2214 laughs uncertainly whilst brushing a strand of hair away from her face, securing it behind her ear.

D-2214: Am I being let off? Is this a welcome back thing?
Dr. Stalsworth : No. You are a D-Class subject. Please consume the liquid in front of you.

Obviously crestfallen and now more worried about the substance, D-2214 gingerly reaches out to the glass and picks it up with her right hand, supporting the base of the glass with her left. Looking up at the one way glassLifting the glass to her nose, she sniffs.

D-2214: Smells fruity.

Delicately inserting her finger into the liquid and retracting it with no negative effects, the subject cautiously sips at the glass. Then, after a pause, takes another small sip. Giving a nod of appreciation, she smiles and takes a gulp, smacking her lips to enhance the flavour.

Dr. Stalsworth : What does the liquid taste like?
D-2214: Well, it’s quite obviously beer but I’m trying to place the undercurrent of flavours, it reminds me of, ugh, kinda like Christmas mulled wine with spices and a fruity bite but not quite if you get me. A bit more bitter. What is it really if I’m testing it?
Dr. Stalsworth: Do you feel any unexpected effects?
D-2214: I see you’re dodging my question. To answer yours, no. I feel a little light headed but it’s strong and I’m not good with alcohol anyway.

D-2214’s head suddenly thuds forwards onto the table and the glass falls out of her limp hands and smashes on the floor, spilling the dark liquid across the concrete with shards of glass.

Dr. Stalsworth: Subject D-2214 respond… Subject D-2214 respond.

The subject fails to answer or react in any noticeable way. A few minutes later, the door is unlocked and a contamination team sweeps in to collect the spilled liquid for a new round of analysis to determine if the liquid has changed and to sweep the room for any other possible toxins that may have affected D-2214. Declaring the room clear, the contamination team leaves and a medical team comes in with first response kits to analyse and assist the subject. They take her pulse and pull up an eyelid to determine brain function.

Medtech #1: Subject is unconscious. Elevated heartrate.
Medtech #2: Eye movements consistent with REM sleep.
Dr. Stalsworth: Can you wake her?

The first medtech audibly slaps subject D-2214 across the face. The subject’s head rolls to the side and rests against her shoulder but she fails to awaken. The medtech seems perturbed by his failure.

Medtech #1: Honestly expected that to work.

The second medtech shakes his head and mutters under his breath whilst he opens one of the plastic first aid boxes marked with a white medical cross, rooting around in his box removing rolls of bandages and unidentifiable packets in order to get at a small crystal vial wrapped in a cotton liner. Picking it out, he snaps it in half and then waves it under D-2214’s nose. Both medtechs stare at D-2214, awaiting a revitalisation that doesn’t occur.

Medtech #1: That should have worked.

Both medtechs decide to pump her stomach in order to purge her system of poisons she may have ingested. After which, the second medtech, with pursed lips and a frown, pulls out a syringe marked with a large ‘R’, uncapping the needle and then inserting it into the subject’s arm before depressing the plunger to administer the stimulant inside. Removing the needle, he applies a small cotton swab to the location to staunch the trickle of blood. She fails to awaken. Both medtechs take a moment to check her pulse and examine her head and spine for damage.

Medtech #1: Extremely rapid heartrate. She should be up and roaring.
Medtech #2: Total lack of response indicates a comatose state yet the eye movements refute that. I would rec-

Screaming awake, D-2214 jerks into motion and flails out, her fist connecting with the second medtech’s nose in a splurt of blood. He recoils back whilst swearing as the first medtech moves in to restrain the subject. Gasping, she frantically looks around, shivering and looking into corners and behind the medtechs. She grasps the table, moving her fingers along its lip and across its surface as if reassuring herself that it exists.

Dr. Stalsworth: Subject D-2214. Calm yourself. Calm. Please recall the events of the last ten minutes as you experienced them.
D-2214: Stop calling me that! I’m Emily!
Dr. Stalsworth: For your own benefit, you are now D-2214. Please answer the question.

The second medtech holds a blood-soaked bandage to his nose whilst he packs up his kit. Both salute the glass of the isolation room awkwardly before leaving with their job done for the moment. The subject watches them go whilst rocking back and forth on the edge of her seat, obviously distressed and maybe contemplating escape out the door with them or ensuring nothing comes in.

Dr. Stalsworth: What do you remember of the last few minutes?
D-2214: Minutes? I’ve been gone for hours!
Dr. Stalsworth: Of course. Please, recall what you’ve experienced.

[The remainder of the log can be accessed upon request, however, the results of this taste test have been deemed anomalous and removed from the data set due to multiple inconsistencies with the subject’s recollection. D-2214 claimed to have been teleported to multiple locations and subjected to extreme trauma.

Addendum I – A month-long observation of subject D-2214 revealed no side or remnant effects from the taste test, besides a desire not to consume beer.

Addendum II – A proposal (under review) has been made to readmit the full #4712-2-A log to the data set considering subsequent taste tests.]]

Due to the reaction of subject D-2214 to the taste test in Log#4712-2-A, the liquid was exposed to a greater range of tests, looking for any potential causes such as nanotechnology or traces of mind-altering substances. Nothing was found. According to all possible tests, SCP-4712-2 was safe to consume and would produce no side effects and due to that was classified as ‘Safe’. An expanded round of taste tests was deemed necessary and volunteers from the research group took part. Ten subjects were given differing quantities of SCP-4712-2 to consume and were ordered to write a report of their experiences. The expanded taste test trial revealed that despite all the toxicity and safety tests, consuming quantities of SCP-4712-2 in excess of 149ml resulted in permanent comas, only two awoke to document their reports, #4712-2-B1 and #4712-2-B2.

+ Report #4712-2-B1

[Subject: Assistant Agenor Bryaxis
Quantity (SCP-4712-2): 50ml
Unconcious Period: 63 minutes 20 seconds

Recollection:
One moment I was in the isolation chamber, then the next I was in darkness. It was cold and wet and I was naked. Seeing a light ahead, I tried to walk but cut my feet on the metal floor. Something or someone heard my cry of pain and the light flared and blinded me. I fell back onto something sharp. It was agony. Even now I touch my back and feel a twinge of that pain. Whilst I was on the floor, whatever it was came to me and I remember staring up into the light. Then I was dragged across the floor by my leg. I blacked out from the pain. I woke up, I don’t know how much later but I could feel the crust of dried blood on my back and I was hanging upside down by my ankle which felt like it would be cut off due to the chain that held me there. I tried to reach my foot to relieve the pressure but I couldn’t. I begged and called for help. I heard metallic clangs and the light approached again. I begged it to help me. I promised it all I knew. The light just stayed there. I faded out again from the pain but when I came to, I was lying face down on a beach. Looking up, I saw jungle ahead of me. It was better than where I had been, so I painfully made my way in, limping and clutching my back. Thirsty, I stopped at a river and drunk the brown water. Then a crocodile burst out, grabbed me by my leg and dragged me in. I remember rolling, white water and drowning. Then I awoke back in the isolation chamber.
]

+ Report #4712-2-B2

[Subject: Dr. Stalsworth
Quantity (SCP-4712-2): 100ml
Unconscious Period: 176 minutes 32 seconds

Recollection:
I consumed my quantity of SCP-4712-2 in one long pull. I would concur with subject D-2214’s assessment that it tasted like a bitter yet wholesome mulled wine, however I did notice a faint taste of blackcurrants. Remembering D-2214’s sudden collapse, I stretched and folded my arms under my head on the table so that I wouldn’t hurt myself when consciousness left me.

I don’t remember the exact transitionary moment but I suddenly found myself standing in near blackness. There was no period of fuzziness between states of being or location. I remember sitting with my head down on the table and then standing in this new area. Looking around revealed nothing in the gloom but I paused to allow my eyesight to adjust, in the meantime taking stock of my other senses.

I could feel extremely rough metal underneath my feet, which made me realise that I was in fact, naked. The realisation made me feel vulnerable and shrivel up, especially when I shivered due to the chill air that draughted around me and through my hair and dangly bits. A trickle of cold water ran into my toes and I tightened them. When that happened, I felt the surface underneath me give way. Crouching down, I gently lay my hand on the floor, feeling the pockmarked and rusted surface, flakes came off with my hand and I couldn’t tell if it was paint patches or some other lining or if the metal was crumbling away due to rust. I remember thinking that I’d probably have to get a tetanus injection whilst considering how I’d move around without shoes.

With my eyes adjusting to the gloom, I could tell that I was in a corridor and the floor was sitting at a slight angle. I could make out bits of wreckage and sea life in the corners by the walls. I believe I was in a shipwreck, old and rusted. A faint light came from the direction in front of me, nothing but darkness to my rear. I decided to head towards the light. Gently lifting one foot at a time and slowly, carefully, testing its new placement before shifting my weight on to it. It was extremely slow going but I managed to protect my feet. From what I could see of the ship I concluded that it was upside down, as I navigated over old light fittings with metal grill-guards and broken glass.

The light ahead of me dimmed and disappeared, leaving me in pitch blackness, so I paused, hoping that my night vision would improve enough to let me see the obstacles blocking my path. Then I heard a faint ringing scream echoing through the halls, seeming to come from both in front and behind me but I believed it originated from in front. I couldn’t tell you why exactly, however, I could tell that it was male and at first it was accompanied by shouts and swearing that I couldn’t make out but shortly after that it just became an elongated and tortured wail of extended, incoherent anguish. Unnerved, I admit I froze. Long after it stopped, I stayed there, unmoving. Waiting. Ears straining to catch any possible sound. I thought I heard a scrape of a boot on the floor. At least I hoped it was a boot, I had thought it could have been flesh along this rough floor and shuddered at the idea.

The light ahead of me returned but it dipped and bobbed and varied in intensity. Putting two and two together, I surmised that it was probably a head-lamp. A part of me wanted to turn around and put as much distance between myself and that screaming as I could but I forced myself to head on, as silently as I could. Whilst my imagination was conjuring up all manners of horrors, I told myself that the individual with the lamp could be helping the one who had been screaming. I doubted it but advanced nevertheless. Again, I couldn’t exactly say why I made that decision. Ahead, I could make out the large oval shape of a bulkhead door with a huge circular hatch wheel set in the middle, locked ajar by layers of rust. Moving forward to take cover behind it and planning to inch my head out to peer into the room, I made a mistake, I stopped paying as much attention to the floor.

A stabbing, cramping, sickening, burning flare of pain burst out across the entire sole of my foot. Clenching my jaw shut and holding my breath despite my spasming leg, my hand flashed out to steady myself against the wall but scraped across it, tearing the skin off my palm and leaving a bloody streak across the metal. Curled there, in an awkward standing position, with one leg held up like a flamingo and one hand cradled in my abdomen, through the waves of aching I almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Blinking away tears and looking down, I saw that I had stepped on a spiky ball of malice, a sea urchin. Finally drawing in breath as quietly as I could, I lifted my leg up and plucked half a dozen spines out from my skewered and bleeding foot. Once that was done, I carefully placed it down in a clear spot and put a little weight on it.

Still cradling my hand, I peered cautiously around the lip of the door and into the chamber beyond. I was shocked to see Agenor strung upside down. A rusty chain was wrapped around his ankle and blood was pouring down his leg. He was naked just like me and when he spun around slowly as he limply writhed, I could see his back had been torn to shreds, I was pretty sure I could see the white of a rib but that might have been a trick of the light. Speaking of the light, I had been right, it was a head-lamp of sorts. A hulking figure stomped in from the opposite door with two clangs as his boots rang across the floor, at head level was a bright, halogen lamp. I couldn’t see much of the figure himself due to the bright light but I’d have estimated about six foot five. From the silhouette I presumed he was wearing a large or bulky diving suit.

Agenor was pleading for mercy, looking wretched and miserable, fully illuminated in the harsh, white glare. The figure stood there for a while, perhaps considering options, I’ll never know. In the end, after Agenor had given up and maybe even passed out as blood trickled down from his back into his hair. Then the figure grabbed the chain that held him up and with a flick released it. Agenor crashed down with a sickening crunch that made me wince, I thought he might have died from that but a groan a moment later confirmed that wasn’t the case. The figure left out the other door.

When silence and pure darkness returned, I lightly made my way into the room and tried to rouse Agenor but he was dead to the world. Concerned that the figure could be back at any moment, I had to decide to either leave him or try and carry him. I decided to take him with me. I spent a good ten minutes clumsily levering him onto my shoulder before I could get my weight under him and stand up with him in a fireman’s carry. I have to admit, that whole exercise proved that I need to get fit. I was out of breath within minutes and not long after that wanted only to drop him.

Working on my belief that the ship was upside down, I descended wherever I could in an attempt to reach the deck. After an indeterminate amount of time, maybe twenty minutes but I can’t be sure, I was navigating a stairwell, panting hoarsely and sweating profusely with shoulders screaming in exertion when one of the steps snapped under our combined weight. My leg slipped into the newly created gap as we fell and due to the lever action created with our toppling bodies, it snapped as well. I fell unconscious from that. When I awoke with a pounding headache, I found us both entangled at the bottom of the stairwell in half a foot of water. I remember being surprised that neither of us had drowned. Looking around, I could see that it looked like we were now in the superstructure and right next to a door to boot. The way out was in sight.

Then the realisation hit me through my pain-addled fuzziness, I could see. A faint white glow was reflecting off the dull metal from above. Forcing myself to listen, I could hear the faint clang of boots above the pulsating stabs of pain in my head. I knew we had to move or be at the mercy of the figure. I pulled myself to one leg, the other hanging limply. I deliberately made sure not to look at my leg, fearing that I would faint at the sight. I knew I couldn’t lift Agenor again, so threw myself forward to try and yank open the door. Re-opening my wounded palm and tearing my uninjured one, I tightened my grip through the hurt and wet sliding of my own ripping flesh on the rusted wheel. Gritting my teeth so tight I felt like I’d burst a tooth, I somehow managed to do it. The lock gave in a cloud of orange dust that rained down upon me and the door burst inwards from the external water pressure. The flood of water slammed me into the rear wall. I remember feeling my broken leg crunching under me with a detached clack like wood on wood.

I must have blacked out there and who’d blame me because the next thing I saw was the Halogen light in front of my face. It took me a moment to reconcile the differences with my fuzzy mind but after groggily staring around, down towards my chained feet, which were pointed up at the ceiling, which was in fact the ship’s floor, I managed to work out that I was in the same room that I’d found Agenor in and I was hanging upside-down like he’d been. The figure had chained both my feet together. I don’t know if that was meant to cause me more pain or to help straighten out my leg break. At that point, I think I was quite delirious. I’d started laughing. Then the figure flicked the chain and I was falling.

I awoke back in the isolation room, with my head resting on my arms. Feeling no worse for wear, all the pain of my recent experiences already fading and not even tipsy from the alcohol.

]

There are many theories as to what SCP-4712-2 is and does but none have been proven conclusively. Currently, a third round of taste tests has been proposed in order to determine if the effects are consistent or if new effects can be induced, this time using safe dosages and with subjects that are forewarned as to what they may experience. The third round has yet to commence testing.

Thermodynamic Research Group:
The infinite production of SCP-4712-2 and the continual growths of SCP-4712-1 without any detectable input or usage of mass or energy, breaks known laws of physics. This is an occurrence of great scientific importance which has given rise to a specific research program focussed on only investigating this anomaly. Prior to D-2214’s taste test, the Thermodynamic Research Group was going to take over control of SCP-4712 but after the results of that experiment it was determined that both research groups should have equal custody and experimental time with the artefact and its products.