Per 
- SCP-6411
- SCP-GULF
- Local Woman Too Angry To Die
- One 1,000,000
- Ketchup-Man: Reloaded
- For Fear They May Come Back
- Object Permanence
- Ketchup Man!
- Scarlet Bread
- Scarlet Bread Outline
- You Come Down
- Scarlet Bread Cutting Room
- Murder!
- Siege Perilous
- Voor's Head Device
- The Electron
- Untitled Cernunnos
- Anomalous Crowdfunding
- Bread Book
Containment Procedures: Information regarding disappearances attributed to SCP-6000 is publicly available, and under no suppression or misinformation protocols. Instead, efforts will focus on explaining disappearances through conventional explanations.
Advanced broadband cellular network technology is to be rolled out across North America as quickly as possible, and expanded to cover national parks, nature preserves and other wilderness areas as efficiently as possible. These areas are to be mapped and catalogued regularly, and all information made publicly available via official government channels.
PROJECT: 'LIMINAL LIMIT' will be deployed in Europe no later than 2022, and in North America no later than 2025. Coordination between the Foundation 'Pataphysics Department, Antimemetics Division, and various anartist groups has been authorized for this deployment.
Description: SCP-6000 is a phenomenon responsible for over 1,500 unexplained disappearances in North America, from 1916 to the present day. Almost all disappearances attributed to this phenomenon occur within national parks, nature preserves and other wilderness areas.
Disappearances attributed to SCP-6000 cannot be explained through forensic data, scientific explanation, nor logical deduction.
According to Foundation research, [DATA EXPUNGED].
SCP-6000 is known to have a secondary effect, manifesting as a sense of unease, paranoia and malaise within abandoned structures formerly inhabited by human beings. This effect can be produced in the laboratory, using non-anomalous memetic tools.
Notes: 6000 is an 'environmental consciousness' which has reality-warping capabilities, and disappears humans who enter its environs, usually with paranormal activity such as lights in the sky, strange noises, strange entities and spatio-temporal distortions.
This consciousness is fundamentally alien to human consciousness, cannot be reasoned with (nor even communicated with), and can only be held at bay by 'structuring' the environment somehow. Human civilization is its own kind of 'structured consciousness' that can host humans safely.
PROJECT: LIMINAL LIMIT is an attempt to impose memetic structure upon SCP-6000. It fails, and SCP-6000 reacts by imposing its own 'un-structure' upon most of North America.
SCP-GULF is an antique Argand hollow wick lamp, originally built during the late 18th century in Cornwall.
When turned on, SCP-GULF reveals surrounding structures to posses hidden passageways and access points not initially visible to the naked eye. These architectural anomalies are not recorded in any blueprints for the structure, and do not conform to the spatial volume occupied by the original building.
These anomalies are invariably found to be hidden behind illusory walls. The exact mechanism by which illusory walls are revealed is extremely subjective to the individual using SCP-GULF, but test subjects usually report unusual shadows and light-scattering effects near illusory walls, which an then be traversed by simply walking through them with SCP-GULF held aloft.
Addendum 01.GULF: On Jan. 21, 2021, SCP-GULF was neutralized during its use
SCP-GULF is a perfectly round hollow sphere made of transparent glass, measuring approx. 1 cm in diameter. The sphere is approx. 1.6
Exploration Video Log Transcript
Date: OPTIONAL
Exploration Team: TEAM NAME - OPTIONAL
Subject: AREA/ANOMALY - OPTIONAL
Team Lead: OPTIONAL
Team Members: OPTIONAL
[BEGIN LOG]
Person A: Dialogue
Person B: Dialogue
STUFF HAPPENS
Person A: Dialogue
[END LOG]
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-ANGRY is currently uncontained, and untraceable through Foundation technology or thaumaturgy.
Due to SCP-ANGRY's stated objectives and anomalous condition, there is a non-zero possibility Foundation operatives will encounter it during field missions, particularly during containment operations. Operatives are encouraged to attempt data collection on SCP-ANGRY, but re-containment is currently considered unfeasible.
Operatives are recommended not to directly request assistance from SCP-ANGRY, but accept it if offered by the anomaly. This recommendation may be overridden by commanding officers depending on circumstance.
Description: SCP-ANGRY is an anomalously-enhanced 28-year-old human female, named ███████ ███████ and born in Cabourg, France. SCP-ANGRY is functionally immortal, continuing to life despite all attempts at termination.
To Whom It May Concern,
You put me in a box, knowing full well I'd escape. I'm almost grateful, after what the Bookburners and the Magpies tried to do. Maybe someday, I'll repay your accidental kindness.
Maybe someday.
When I was small, my mother told me this story about some princess. I don't remember the details, but the moral was -
'- Be the heroine of your story. Never let yourself be the victim.'
Granted, now I'm older and I know life isn't always so simple… But for now, I'll take her up on that.
Regards,
Adeline Boucher SCP-ANGRY
Some say she can't live like this, but she just keeps living…
The house stank like weed. She hated that smell. Legal or not, it made her paranoia much worse, an unwelcome keepsake of college days spent hiding her stash from over-curious senior residents.
"Are we almost done?" Stephanie asked, after some unsuccessful moments spent trying to calm her nerves.
Michael turned from his desktop to face her, as various other technicians kept typing away on their own terminals and setting up the aluminum frame around the kitchen doorway.
"Yeah, almost!" Mike cheerfully responded. "At this point, we're really just waiting for the guys to finish the translatio frame, and making sure we're well-calibrated. Wouldn't want to end up stuck in any walls, eh?"
Stephanie just huffed in response.
"I hate your roommates," she declared, staring through the frame and out the kitchen window into the backyard, where the boys were almost done getting dressed. One of was smoking the same fat blunt he'd been nursing all morning, since she'd arrived.
"Huh?" Mike looked confused, until he followed her gaze out the window. "Ah, yeah… It's pretty dank in here, isn't it? You gotta understand, it helps calm their nerves! This is the only way we're gonna make rent this month, and it's not exactly as safe as working at the coffee shop…"
"I don't have to understand anything," Stephanie muttered.
"I'd say you're free to sit on the front porch… But not dressed like that!" Mike laughed.
He was right. Steph was in absolutely no position to go out in public, dressed as she was. On top of her black tank top and jeans, she wore her combat harness. Attached to the harness were her combat knife, her rifle, some grenades and her first-aid kit. Her combat helmet - with integrated NODs, M50-rated gas mask and SCRAMBLE Gen 2s - hung on her belt.
And then there was the SRA. It was heavy, tightly bound to her chest by several redundant belts and harnesses, and was the one truly sci-fi-looking piece of gear she wore. Everything else on her person looked like military surplus, but the SRA's low hum and glowing blue indicator circle designated it as something truly out of this world.
Which, technically, it was.
"Remind me what 'SRA' means again?" Stephanie asked Mike, as she saw the boys out back finish strapping their own devices to their chests. They were dreadfully unprofessional - One wore an aloha shirt in bright red, rather than the 'strict' basic black outfits they'd been told to bring. Another was gleefully attaching an SRA to his buddy with just duct tape.
"Scranton Reality Anchor," Mike said. He was now over by the kitchen door, finishing the translatio frame.
"Scranton?" Stephanie asked. "What, like The Office?"
"Hah," Mike replied. "I think the guy who invented these was named Scranton? Rob Scranton or something…"
Stephanie frowned. "Hey, doesn't one of the Goons have an uncle named Robert?"
Mike nodded enthusiastically.
"Yep! We're like… 90 percent sure he's our version of the guy."
"You don't think he'll recognize us, do you?"
"Nah," Mike replied, shaking his head. He took some steps back, and admired his handiwork as two of the assistant techs high-fived. Behind them, the Goons started streaming into the kitchen.
"Whoaaaa!! Nice work, Mikey!!" the lead Goon exclaimed, rushing over to high-five Mike. He was heavy-set, and not much older than Stephanie herself. She realized with some distaste that he was both the one in the aloha shirt, and the one who'd been nursing the same blunt all morning. "Ay yo, check it out lads!! This here's the door to our million bucks each!"
The Goons - five of them total - and Stephanie sat on the couches arranged around the living room. There wasn't enough room for them all, kitted out as they were, and Stephanie was pleased when Aloha - as she'd begun to refer to the Lead Good - brought in two lawn chairs from upstairs and sat on one on the opposite side of the room from her.
"Alright fellas," Mike said, handing out stapled-together flyers to each of them. "Read each one of these, stuff it in your pocket, and line up at the kitchen. We're gonna have like, 10 minutes to get you all through, so let's make it quick."
"Yo," one of the Goons laughed. His eyes were practically glowing bright red. "I can't even READ this shit!"
"It's fine," Mike responded as he took the flyer, skimmed it and handed it back. "Just make sure you read the ConProcs, and enough of the Description to know what you're looking for."
"Ay yo Mikey, we expecting any kind of serious resistance?" Aloha asked. Stephanie was impressed he was capable of such foresight.
"Yeah," Mike shrugged. "It's fine, though. Just make sure your dude can stay on his feet long enough to grab the skip and run back."
"Yo dude, I got lost on my way to your bathroom earlier," another Goon - the visibly high one - said. "How the fuck am I supposed to find uhhhh… 'Site-19'?"
"Oh, don't worry about that," Mike replied. "Your dude is gonna show up to the party way less high than you are right now."
"Fuuuhhh!!" the Goon exclaimed, and some of his buddies laughed.
"Any more questions?" Mike asked.
"Yeah, I've got one," Steph said, raising her hand before quickly lowering it, remembering she wasn't in any classroom. "What happens if my… Dudette… Doesn't die or get shot or anything?"
One of the Goons, whistled. Aloha raised an eyebrow and scratched his head. "Yo, good point," he said.
"She'll have an expiration date on her," Mike replied, after the group settled down. "Won't last any longer than maybe an hour after she's done in there, and that's if they pump her full of drugs and stuff to stabilize her. Oh and when you cross back, she's gone anyway, so no loose ends."
Steph nodded as the Goons whooped and laughed. She ignored them, choosing instead to read her file.
Item #: SCP-140
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-140 must never be brought closer than 15 m to any source of standard ink, human blood, or other fluids suitable for writing…
… SCP-140 is contained at Site-76 in its sealed vault, containing only one desk…
"Hey, what the hell Mike?" Steph frowned. "This thing's KETER class? I don't know what that means, but it doesn't sound safe… And I thought you're sending us into Site-19, not… What, 76?"
"Fuhhhhh," Aloha intoned. He was now wearing expensive-looking Ray-Bans. "Fallout 76."
Whatever punchline existed in that line was lost on Stephanie, even though the rest of Goons broke into laughter. Mike once again waited for them to settle down.
"Our guy says 140 is at -19 for the week. Something about cross-testing with 55."
"Should I grab both?" Steph asked.
"If you can," Mike shrugged. "Guy's only paying for 140, and I don't remember anything about 55 being dangerous, so we can just keep it in the shed if they won't take it."
Steph looked uncertain, and Mike followed up.
"Tell you what… Get to the secure vaults and if you can't find 140, just grab whatever you can. If our guy doesn't want it, I'll pay you for whatever it is out of pocket."
"You just said you're doing this to make rent," Steph protested. "How the hell are you planning to have money to buy just whatever I bring back?"
"Ay," Aloha spoke up, and leaned towards her. "You're uhhhh… Steph, right?"
Stephanie just nodded, and Aloha continued.
"Check it," the Goon said, getting up to his feet. "I don't even know you, but like… If Mikey here says you're with us on this run, you're with us. Last time, Tapes here brought back some kind of fucked up lobster that tried to eat his ass, and not like in the fun way. We all pitched in out of our commission to make sure he got enough for his dad's chemo."
"You're one of the Goons now," Aloha finished. "That means you're with us, so if Mikey says just grab whatever, you'll get taken care of, don't even trip, queen."
"Queen?" Stephanie asked, more confused than anything else.
"Yeah," Aloha dramatically took off his sunglasses, and pointed in her general direction, but not directly at her. It was like he was pointing at something just behind her, like through an unknown fourth wall she couldn't see.
"'Cause all women are queens," he declared, putting his sunglasses back on as dramatically as he'd torn them off just moments earlier. His fellow Goons exploded into cheering and laughter, and even Steph couldn't help but smile. It was an unexpectedly sweet sentiment, that they'd all pitch in to cover her part of the booty.
"Alright, alright! Let's get going, lads!" Mike announced, and they each started lining up at the Kitchen door.
Mike crossed the frame first, and closed the door on the other side. Moments later, the frame turned on, producing its low humming sound. Some of the technicians backed away, while others stepped up and typed away at laptops, plugging in tablets and taking readings Stepanie wouldn't have been able to make sense of.
"Alright, start crossing fellas! We've got like, 10 minutes! Make sure to close the door behind you!"
Aloha went first, briskly crossing the threshold and slamming the door behind him. The Goon in duct tape went next, and then it was Stephanie's turn. She had to wait for Mike to reach over and close the door.
"Close the fucking door, Tapes!" Mike yelled. "Go ahead, Steph!"
Stephanie took one deep breath, pushed the door open and walked through.
She ended up on the other side of the door, in the kitchen. Mike stood nearby, and prompted her to close the door behind her, which she did. Aloha and Tapes sat at the table, drinking tall glasses of kool-aid.
"What now?" Stephanie asked.
"Pull up your chair and chill, queen," Aloha said, relighting his blunt.
—
Stephanie took one deep breath, pushed the door open and walked through.
She was now in an unfamiliar hallway, with bright lights and linoleum-tile floor. Heavy steel doors lined the hall, and around the far corner, Aloha waved her over.
She'd made it through. She was in Site-19 now.
Item: SCP-5455
Object Class: Euclid Thaumiel
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-5455 is to be kept in a standard humanoid containment module at Site-17. Given its history of cooperation, SCP-5455 has been placed on the Site-17 Low Security Containment Schedule, allowing for one hour of recreational time per day (two hours on Saturday and Sunday), as well as access to Site-17's public entertainment library.
Special Containment Procedures: Given its current location outside the observable universe's cosmological horizon, SCP-5455 cannot be interacted in any meaningful fashion.
In the event SCP-5455 returns to the observable universe, it is to be retrieved through any means available to and deemed necessary by MTF Upsilon-8 ("Warriors on the Edge of Time"). SCP-5455's physical integrity must take priority during any hypothetical or actual rescue.
Description: SCP-5555 is an adult human male, approximately 32 years old and of Hispanic/Caucasian ethnic background.
SCP-5555's circulatory system contains no blood nor related biological fluids. Instead, it contains ketchup. Lymph, proteins and other non-blood biological matter is anomalous in that it functions consistently with non-anomalous humans. Additionally, SCP-5555's immune system is entirely normal, save for the fact that it operates as it would if suspended in human blood, rather than any condiment.
SCP-5555 has demonstrated no other anomalous traits, nor any negative medical consequence due to his anomalous traits.
Test Log:
Incident Report: Okay, so basically Space!Ghosts attack the Foundation. Ketchup Man follows them, and realizes that he's immune to whatever prevents the Foundation from fighting back. Why? Because he's got no blood.
SCP-5XXX, during a brief period of containment.
Special Containment Procedures: Given the anomalous effects of SCP-5XXX, its containment must prevented at all costs. This mandate supersedes all other directives issued to Foundation personnel, including the Veil Protocol and all other Special Containment Procedures in effect.
If SCP-5XXX's movement through spacetime is impeded, this impediment must be removed through any means deemed necessary by Foundation personnel.
—-
SCP-5XXX has been released into the prison population at Kamiti Maximum Security Prison in Nairobi, Kenya. Due to its status as one of the world's most violent and over-populated prisons in the world, SCP-5XXX is likely to be used frequently for its original, intended purpose. All prison staff have been instructed to never confiscate SCP-5XXX, however. Under no circumstances is SCP-5XXX placed into solitary confinement for any amount of time.
Studying the anomaly is extremely difficult. Senior Researcher Site Administrator Valeria Borges has been was tasked with determining exactly what counts as containment in regards to this anomaly. Access to SCP-5XXX's documentation is restricted to approved staff, and an assigned member of the O5 Council (currently O5-9).
What used to be the topic of lively debate over drinks after-hours is now the subject of our decade-long, multi-million dollar research study. I say 'our' because I can't, in good faith, claim sole credit for this paper, nor its conclusions. Not only have I relied on veritable legions of Junior Researchers, expert consultants, Site Administrators and assistants of all stripes, but I must also give my humble thanks to the 27 men and women who gave their lives to define the word 'Containment.'
Their names can be found on the next page, along with the rest of our acknowledgements, key citations and our formal abstract. For now, allow me to present the definition:
Containment can be defined as the creation of any set of circumstances or affairs that restrict the movement of any given object or entity, such that its effects on external circumstances or affairs unrelated to itself are minimized, neutralized or otherwise restricted.
The Foundation contains anomalies. We are in the business, so to speak, of minimizing external effects produced by an unusual class of objects, which we call 'anomalies;' When it's possible and advantageous, we neutralize. When it's not, we restrict and study.
The question which has consumed countless hours of spirited and friendly conversation, millions of dollars, an entire decade of research and study, and 27 lives, then becomes…
What happens when all attempts to minimize an anomaly's effect on the world around it make things so much worse?
— Dr. Valeria Borges
Description: SCP-5XXX is an improvised knife-like weapon. It is primarily composed of steel, with one end wrapped in cloth and bound with a cotton cord.
The blade of SCP-5XXX has been inscribed with SCP-5XXX-1 by the Foundation.
Designation Memorandum: The anomaly here designated SCP-5XXX-1 was originally considered secondary to another anomaly (SCP-███), but has since been neutralized in its original instance, and applied to SCP-5XXX.
Classification Memorandum: In this instance, SCP-5XXX-1 has been classified as Thaumiel. However, the anomaly is to be considered Euclid in all other instances, save the original. There, it is classified under the primary anomaly's Keter classification.
Special Containment Procedures:
Description: SCP-5XXX-1 is an Erikeshan pictogram with infohazardous properties. When viewed by an individual, said individual becomes reluctant to claim ownership of whatever object the pictogram is inscribed onto. Repeated exposure provokes intense feelings of reluctance to confine it within any relatively difficult-to-access space.
5XXX.01.01: Addendum SCP-5XXX-1 was originally inscribed on SCP-███, the details of which remain [REDACTED].
SCP-5XXX's anomalous properties become evident upon its containment. After an unspecified amount of time, all physical matter around SCP-5XXX, within an area corresponding to the amount of time it has been contained, will spontaneously teleport to fucking Carcosa.
Item: SCP-5827
Object Class: Archon
Special Containment Procedures: Given the anomalous effects of SCP-5XXX, it must not be contained under any circumstances. This mandate supersedes all other directives issued to Foundation personnel, including the Veil Protocol and all other Containment Procedures in effect.
MTF Omega-0 ("Ará Orún") is tasked with the defense of SCP-5XXX. The Identity Warfare Training (IWT) capabilities of MTF Ω-0 has been augmented via SCP-███, SCP-4755 and SCP-5577, specifically for the task of protecting Foundation access to SCP-5XXX.
In the event of SCP-5XXX's successful containment, Procedure 'Peek-A-Boo' is to be enacted as soon as possible.
Procedure 'Peek-A-Boo' consists of a surveillance network manned by an observational subroutine designed to guide assigned personnel through the initial stages of terminating containment of SCP-5XXX, whatever that may entail.
This I/O program (officially designated 'I/O Magnu') is to observe all Foundation staff for signs of memory degradation and cognitive health. Upon detecting the effects of SCP-5XXX, or observationally-similar behavior, I/O Magnu is to initiate phone calls to all members of any random pool of subjects (numbering no less than 12) from its list of personnel assigned to SCP-5XXX. I/O Magnu will then play Foundation Personnel Message #01.5XXX, and monitor all results. If criteria matching the effects of SCP-5XXX is observed in a statistically-significant number of subjects, I/O Magnu will then play Foundation Personnel Message #02.5XXX.
Individuals who receive Foundation Personnel Message #02.5XXX, and demonstrate an elevated level of memory recall, are to be designated Class A personnel, and given instruction on how to terminate containment of SCP-5XXX. All Foundation staff have been implemented with memetic compulsions to assist these individuals in whatever tasks they deem necessary to end containment of 5XXX, for the duration of its containment.
Under no circumstances is Procedure 'Peek-A-Boo' to be placed under the control of any sentient entity.
Description: SCP-5XXX is the psychological phenomenon known as object permanence.
Item: SCP-5455
Object Class: Euclid Thaumiel
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-5455 is to be kept in a standard humanoid containment module at Site-17. Given its history of cooperation, SCP-5455 has been placed on the Site-17 Low Security Containment Schedule, allowing for one hour of recreational time per day (two hours on Saturday and Sunday), as well as access to Site-17's public entertainment library.
[[/collapsible]]
(SevatarMobile) It's bread! It's a loaf of homemade bread. Eating it has anti-psychotic properties. It cures depression and schizophrenia and all sorts of things!
(SevatarMobile) Meanwhile, investigation starts revealing unusual things... It was created with human sacrifice? And it's not doing anything medically, it's... Doing something spiritual?
(SevatarMobile) More tests. Higher doses of this bread can cure BLINDNESS! That's really strange. Also, some frequent users are reporting weird aches and pains... Surely that's not related, is it...?
(SevatarMobile) More investigation, maybe an exploration log. It was definitely created with human sacrifices. Lots of them. And the end goal seems to be to create some kind of method of 'seeing the true nature of reality'... Wtf is this stuff?!
(SevatarMobile) More tests. The D-Class are doing great, except for the pain. It's getting worse. Moreover, some site staff has gotten into the pantry. Small doses can't hurt, can it...?
(SevatarMobile) Then, all hell breaks loose. A recipe has hit the internet, and made it to Good Morning America.
(SevatarMobile) Thousands are now eating this bread every day. The broadcast was halted, but all too late. The worst part is, it contains no anomalous ingredients. It's easy to make, anyone can do it.
(SevatarMobile) The pain is getting worse. MUCH worse. And the D-Class claim to 'understand' now.
(SevatarMobile) Finally, the Foundation figures it out.
(SevatarMobile) This bread has transsubstantiated, in a sick perversion of the Christian eucharist.
(SevatarMobile) The Bread has been transformed into flesh.
(SevatarMobile) The Scarlet King's Flesh.
(SevatarMobile) And it opens the eyes and hearts of those who eat it, so they may understand His primordial agony.
(SevatarMobile) Millions around the world 'get it' now.
(SevatarMobile) They understand where the Scarlet King is coming from.
1) ConProcs
2) Description
3) Discovery/Test Logs
4) Interview
5) Exploration Log (SCP-reclassification)
6) Testing Logs (Blindness Cure and Pains)
7) [kvlt shit!]
8) Exploration Log (Human Sacrifices!)
8x) Orthodox/Erikesh Icons
9) Testing Log (Site Staff)
10) Containment Breach 1
11) Containment Breach 2 (After-Incident Report)
12) Reclassification (Uncontained)
13) [kvlt shit, erikesh shit]
14) Testing Logs (Agony)
15) Testing Logs (Transubstantiation)
16) Interview Logs (Sage O'Donnell)
16x) Children Summon Something Big! And the Foundation Nukes It
17) O5 Conclusions
18) Ennui Vote Fails
19) Incident Report (2000 Fails)
20) Declaration of War Against Reality
21) Emergency Communications (Gluten-Free Resistance)
You come down with your thorns in your crown
Tearing the flesh from your skull
And the trick of the brain is the trickle in vein
As it drips from your ears and your nostril
But you could always make the lakes fill up
Take my hand leave my heart to the damned
As you build me a bed in the earth
Peel back my skin let the daffodils in
As you bury me back to my birth
But you could always make me hurt
Cause I will go to the ends of the Earth
Just to hear you sing
Make no mistake
But the heartache of my weight
Feels like the breath of the wind
Without the force to push me on
Plough through the soil, hear the crunch of the foil
As you unwrap the bread of my heart
Chew through the bones, close your ears to the moans
Of you I now am a part
But how long can you hold on to your head?
Take my lungs, pour the songs that we've sung
Into a ready-made flask
Mouth open wide as you drink it inside
Drips through the hole in your mask
But you could always make me hurt
ACCESS GRANTED
CLASSIFIED
SCP-5231
Provisional Designation
| Purpose of the Experiment: Determine Anomalous Properties; |
Result: SCP-5231 (Official Designation) Granted |
{$content}
false
Addendum: Post-Contact Interview
Interviewed: Cpl. Robert Gutierrez, ████████ County Sheriff's Department
Interviewer: Senior Containment Director Amy Weatstone
Foreword: Cpl. Gutierrez was one of two surviving sheriff's deputies following the altercation at Mt. Crimson Evangelical Church in ████ ██████, UT on May 10, 2020. The only other survivor, Dep. Sage O'Donnell, was found in critical condition by first responders and later placed into a chemically-induced coma by Foundation medical personnel.
<Begin Log, 11:17 p.m.>
Dir. Weatstone: Good evening, Corporal. I know having this interview right now must not be easy for you, but you must understand…
Cpl. Gutierrez: Please, ask away. I'm fine, I assure you.
Dir. Weatstone: … Well, let's start there. You're 'fine,' you say… I think I can be forgiven for harboring some doubts. I've met seasoned military personnel who would most certainly not be fine after tonight's events.
Cpl. Gutierrez: Well, all I can say is that I'm happy to be in one piece. I'm definitely worried about Deputy O'Donnell, but I've seen her power through worse.
Dir. Weatstone: Worse? Corporal, she took three gunshots to the face, one of them at point-blank range. Additionally, over 60 percent of her body suffered third-degree burns. Her left leg will almost certainly have to be amputated, and the injuries to her chest aren't consistent with any kind of firearm we're familiar with.
Cpl. Gutierrez: What I mean is that it's a miracle she's alive. I've known Sage for a while, and believe me, she's not the kind of girl who'd want anyone crying over the sacrifices she's made. If I our roles had been reversed, she'd say the same about me.
Dir. Weatstone: I… I suppose I can only say that's a remarkably mature point of view, Corporal. How old did you say you were?
Cpl. Gutierrez: 26.
Dir. Weatstone: I see… And how long have you been attending services at Mt. Crimson?
Cpl. Gutierrez: Couldn't have been more than a few months… Since last November, I guess. I only ever went once or twice, though. Sage was the real devotee. Last week, she and a few other guys were talking about maybe being baptized into the church.
Dir. Weatstone: Did she or anyone else ever talk about joining the compound?
Cpl. Gutierrez: Full time, you mean?
Dir. Weatstone: That's right.
Cpl. Gutierrez: Not to my knowledge. Though I wouldn't be surprised if she'd been mulling it over. Sage spent practically all her time at the compound. I'm told her husband even thought she was having an affair with someone, maybe the pastor.
Dir. Weatstone: Was that the case?
Cpl. Gutierrez: No. She was baking muffins, most likely.
Dir. Weatstone: Muffins?
Cpl. Gutierrez: Sage had a huge thing for cooking. She spent a lot of her downtime watching that British baking show1. Once she hooked up with some of the ladies up at the compound, she joined their cooking group. Made sandwiches for homeless folks, fed the whole church after Sunday service… Every Monday morning, she showed up with this really great sourdough for everyone on the force. Man, I could sure go for some right now… Light and fluffy… Rich, savory flavor…"
Dir. Weatstone: I see… We'll be continuing this interview shortly, Corporal.
Cpl. Gutierrez: Sure, sure.
<End Log>
Exploration Video Log Transcript
Date: May 11, 2020
Exploration Team: MTF Epsilon-6 ("Village Idiots")
Subject: Mt. Crimson Evangelical Church
Team Lead: Sgt. Leslie Gibson ("Alpha")
Team Members: Pvt. Mike Segal ("Beta"); Pvt. Darold Jackson ("Gamma"); Pvt. Gerard Thomas ("Delta");
[BEGIN LOG]
//Team approaches remains of Mt. Crimson compound.
Person A: Dialogue
Person B: Dialogue
STUFF HAPPENS
Person A: Dialogue
[END LOG]
Frigid air filled Abel's lungs.
It was the same air he'd been preserved in for the past countless thousands of years. Abel remembered, as he slid the stone slab to his prison aside, the first time he'd seen a refrigerator. He had laughed, and hadn't been able to stop until Iris practically threw the pizza box at him.
Iris. After he spoke with Adrian, and debriefed what was left of the team, he'd find a game to play with Iris. Another race would be just the thing he'd need to move past what he'd seen at the Bloom.
Seawater flooded the prison, and that was Abel's first indication something was wrong. He'd been promised the floodwaters wouldn't be set against him unless he broke Foundation protocol. And while Abel could remember the constant urge to do so, he most certainly couldn't remember ever violating any of the laundry list of restrictions he'd been placed under.
As water rushed into the prison, it froze in place in the wickedly-cold air. Abel found his feet frozen to the floor, then everything up to the waist. He tried to break free in vain, and soon enough was totally engulfed. He felt his ribs crack, and hairline fractures spread throughout his skull like spiderwebs as the water froze around him. Moments later, the hemorrhaging began.
If Abel could have screamed, he would have. Instead, he silently watched the prison's door slide closed, and the interior reset as he died.
Frigid air filled Abel's lungs.
This time, he was ready. As the prison's wall slid open, Abel jumped and scrambled to stay out of the quickly freezing water. Once he could wiggle out, he escaped the prison…
… and was totally unprepared for the 20,000 volts that coursed through his body. It wasn't the first time he'd caught fire from the inside out, but he nevertheless raged for the few moments before his sudden death.
Frigid air filled Abel's lungs, but it barely registered.
As soon as he could, he ran toward the wall of the Primary Containment Zone. He jumped, and climbed up far enough to reach the electric mesh that would electrify the water in mere moments. Abel knew he could make better time if he used his weapons…
… but he couldn't. Even if the Foundation had changed the rules on him, he wouldn't. The moment he drew his weapons, he'd be registered as an enemy, and then there'd be no chance of figuring out what the hell was happening.
His fist closed around the wire mesh, and he pulled. Thousands of volts ran through him like lightning across the sky, but he ground his teeth and pulled the mesh free of the wall. He barely had enough consciousness left in him to shove his fist through the battery powering the system, before he died again.
Frigid air filled Abel's lungs, but to his surprise, there was no water this time.
Abel carefully stepped into the Primary Containment Zone, and looked out across the featureless concrete flooring. Across the way, where the electric deterrence system had once been installed, there was now a scissor lift. Within it stood two engineers, reinstalling the system.
At the base of the lift stood three armed guards, all of them with high-powered rifles.
Abel stopped for a moment, and just before the guards turned toward him and leveled their rifles, he did the unthinkable…
… he surrendered.
It's just Siege Perilous, from Arthurian legend.
This seat, which is 'contained' in the O5 conference room chamber, is pre-destined to be filled by 'O5-0,' the last member of the O5 Council. It will be filled during a time of great crisis for the Foundation, and its being filled signals that the Foundation cannot, and will not, recover from the crisis, whatever it is.
This may or may not also tie into my planned 'SCP-1 Billion' Canon, where Billion would be O5-0.
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-6660 is to be kept at Site-01, in the O5 Conference Chamber. Besides those protections already afforded to the O5 Conference Chamber, no individual is to be prevented from accessing SCP-6660.
Pre-existing members of the O5 Council are not to sit upon SCP-6660 under any circumstances.
Description: SCP-6660 is a high-backed armchair carved from oak, designed in a style consistent with 5th Century Welsh carpentry, recovered from an archaeological site in Huddersfield, West Yorkshire. The armchair is devoid of ornamentation, except for an engraving on the back identifying the seat as reserved for one 'OV-O.'
SCP-6660's anomalous properties activate whenever someone sits upon it. Upon seating themselves on SCP-6660, the subject in question will immediately suffer cardiac arrest. Thus far, there have been no instances of recovery from this effect.
Addendum: Note from O5-1
For so long as the Foundation has existed, there have been 13 individuals on the O5 Council. So strict is this number, during our first informal meeting, we elevated one of our own to the newly-created post of Administrator, rather than add an 'O5-14' or any such position.
This is not because we're a superstitious lot, nor because the number 13 has any kind of occult significance to us. Rather, it's because there's already a fourteenth member of our Council, if not in time and position, then in waiting.
Somewhere out there, be it millions upon billions of light-years away from Earth, or lifetimes into the future, or simply out of sight, there is already our fourteenth colleague, and Siege Perilous has designated them as 'O5-0.'
There's one more element to the legend of Siege Perilous that all too often gets overlooked. Not only is the Knight who seats Siege Perilous unscathed destined to find the Holy Grail, and thus complete the universal charge of knighthood itself, but they are also destined to signal the end of their Round Table, to preside over the dissolution of the very body they have completed.
Someday, O5-0 will appear. They will seat Siege Perilous, and on that day, the Council will know its end.
Whatever crisis the Foundation faces on that day, the O5 Council shall not overcome it. I only hope those who survive us can find the way to do so.
O5-1
Foundation Administrator ███████ ███████████, wearing SCP-6000.
| Assigned Site | Site Director | Research Head | Assigned Task Force |
| Site-81 | Dr. Jean Karlyle Aktus | Jr. Researcher Diego Bosque | NONE |
I'm a huge fan of Have A Nice Life and their associated projects. This entire SCP is a reference to side-project Giles Corey's self-titled 2011 release, and the fiction piece released alongside the album. Here, I'm also trying to do something along the lines of what -093 did, but with the general theme of death, ghosts, beginnings/endings, and suicide as the theme, rather than guilt and sin. Ideally, this is going to be a very long SCP, one that includes both a history of Voor's Head Device, and also an 'exploration log' involving the Head Device. Finally, I'd also be really interested in shooting for the top of the Foundation Canon here, with the last exploration log belonging to the Administrator of the Foundation.
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-6000 is to be stored in Low-Security Locker #35 at Site 19, equipped with a standard security padlock. All staff assigned to SCP-6000 must score at least two standard deviations below Foundation average for dissociative and schizoaffective predisposition, as well as score zero on generalized anxiety disorder and major depressive disorder batteries.
As of Incident 6000/F, all tests involving the use of SCP-6000 is suspended.
Description: SCP-6000 is a delicate piece of headgear consisting of an opaque black plastic bag, punctured with several small holes, sewn into an outer bag made of undyed cloth. The opening of this bag has been modified to include a leather collar, which can be tightened to secure SCP-6000 over the user's head.
SCP-6000 meant to be worn over the head to induce mild asphyxiation and hallucinations. The plastic lining of the bag provides an insufficient, but steady supply of air. Breathing is further restricted by the cloth shell and collar.
SCP-6000's anomalous effects activate when the hood is worn regularly (at least three times per week) over the course of at least two months. Once an unknown threshold of regular usage is reached, hallucinations caused by SCP-6000 via asphyxiation will condense into a consistent pattern, persistent across all test subjects.
Addendum: 6000/F
Cross-testing with SCP-████ has indicated that when SCP-6000 is used to commit suicide, these hallucinations become the subject's afterlife.
SCP-4XXX, during its brief time in containment in 2019. Photo courtesy of Alexylva University.
What I'm going for here is that the effects of containment are 'true' anomaly, and the SCP needs to be actively protected/defended from containment. I might need to make it something really, really easy to contain, rather than the sole electron in the entire universe. That way, containment is an actual issue, which the Foundation has to contend with. The story revolves around the Foundation's efforts to keep something out of containment, and just how 'out of their element' they are in accomplishing that.
I've since put this project on indefinite hiatus.
Special Containment Procedures: Stay humble.
Due to the extreme risk posed by long-term containment,[[footnoe]]Hereby defined as 'obstruction of SCP-4XXX's movement through space-time via quantum tunneling;' Containment of SCP-4XXX is usually achieved through thaumaturgy, or high-energy particle physics equipment.[methods of detecting attempts to contain of SCP-4XXX are currently under development.[[footnoe]Researchers interested in helping with development are encouraged to speak with Dr. Beverly Velasco or Junior Researcher Diego Alvarez.[[/footnoe]]
Foundation operatives are to monitor scientific institutions for attempts to contain SCP-4XXX. Such attempts are to be discouraged, dissuaded, or sabotaged. The "one-electron universe hypothesis" is to be discredited wherever relevant. Furthermore, the "one-electron universe hypothesis"[[footnoe]]The one-electron universe postulate is the hypothesis that all electrons and positrons are actually manifestations of a single entity moving backwards and forwards in time.[[/footnoe]] is to be discredited wherever relevant.
Description: SCP-4XXX is an elementary particle with an electric charge of -1, a spin of 1/2 and a mass of 0.5109989461(31) MeV/c[[footnoe]]Commonly known as an electron.[[/footnoe]]. SCP-4XXX is the only known instance of this particle in the universe. All other observed instances of SCP-4XXX are in fact this single particle, moving forward and backward in time.
SCP-4XXX's anomalous properties become evident in the event of its containment, upon which electrical activity in the local area will immediately cease. Additionally, ion transport and other biochemical process dependent on electron movement fail, resulting in the death of biological organisms. The area of this effect expands at approximately 1.666 cm/s. Notably, human beings are immune to this effect.
Physical matter caught within this effect will then experience biological decay. This includes matter that is ordinarily not capable of experiencing biological decay. Depending on the techniques and materials employed in containment, structural failure of the containment unit itself typically occurs between 48 hours and 31 weeks
Addendum 4XXX.1: Initial Discovery
SCP-4XXX was discovered on September 29, 1940. Following a conversation with physicist John Wheeler, Foundation consultant Richard Feynman suggested to Dr. ███ ███████ the testing of the "one-electron universe hypothesis," ostensibly to determine faster ways of producing weapons-grade uranium for the Manhattan Project.
The hypothesis was then tested using alchemical containment procedures developed by ███████ ██ ██████████████. Following the catastrophic effects of containment, Dr. ███ ███████ was severely reprimanded, while Feynman's consulting partnership with the Foundation was terminated, with amnestics administered. Due to the importance of other components [[footnoe]]Namely, the quantum nature of the positron.[[/footnoe]] in the one-electron universe hypothesis, however, Feynman's memories of the actual phone conversation with Wheeler were not erased.
Ironically, Feynman himself would later dismiss the one-electron universe hypothesis, simply saying he didn't take the idea seriously when Wheeler first presented it.
Addendum 4XXX.2: Incident Report 01/04/2019-A
On Jan. 04, 2019, SCP-4XXX was contained for approximately 1 hour and 18 minutes by Dr. ███████ ██████, a researcher affiliated with Alexylva University, at the University of █████████, using a thaumaturgical matrix of unknown composition. Dr. ██████ was unable to contact her superiors with either institution, but was able to contact Foundation operatives monitoring SCP-███ at a nearby research lab.
After determining the nature of SCP-4XXX's containment, Foundation agents embedded within local emergency services evacuated the area, and destroyed the offending containment unit with long-range artillery bombardment.
Addendum 4935.1: Advisory Note
SCP-4XXX Tracking System - Development Update
Diego Alvarez, Junior Researcher
STAY HUMBLE
The general idea is that it takes in a Canon/Timeline wherein the Foundation is very small, under-funded and consists largely of a few independent researchers, operating under a unified command and loose network. The anomaly isn't Cernunnos because it requires billions of people to die, but rather because its just financially unfeasible to contain.
The story/narrative portion of the SCP consists of the Foundation trying to operate on a shoe-string budget. It may have to start with a message from RAISA referencing 'technical difficulties' or server downtime, or some other indication of poor funding.
Potential Twists: The Cernunnos classification can be removed, once funding is acquired. The story can then move in the direction of outlining the lengths the O5 Council goes through to acquire funding. This could mean doing really, really unsavory stuff (maybe Bowe Commission prequel?), rewriting timelines, and more. This also re-frames the O5s, not as anomalous demi-lords, but as extremely skilled administrators, managers and executives, responsible for the funding the Foundation depends on.
This takes place in the 'Poor Foundation' canon described in 'Untitled Cernunnos;'
Verifying Horizon Initiative credentials…
Accessing Project Malleus Anti-Scripture Database…
Querying "bread heart"…
WARNING - The following text(s) is/are classified as MALEFICARUM EXTREMIS…
Do you wish to continue?
[Y]/N
…
…
…
1 text found.
Unwrap the Bread of my Heart
Unwrap the Bread of my Heart (Fragment)
Enter your MALEFICARUM APOCALYPSIS access key below.
Key verified.
Access granted.
Deus misereátur vestri meam.
On the Little Shadow
1 So it happened that Atri went to the market that day, feeling low and miserable.2 Pótnyā had made him feel faithless, and the least of all things in the eyes of He-Who-Rescues-Through-Violence.3 And it was in the market that Atri met with a merchant, one claiming to be from Aadzain, selling wares of polished obsidian.4 And Atri did look into one such panel of crystal darkness, and here is what he saw;5 There was God, slain and hung upon a wooden beam, left to die in total agony. And there was a victory, a valiant return from death itself.6 And there was a memory, and disciples together to share bread and wine and remember.7 And in this remembering, there was power.
8 And their God was with them, and the bread was made His flesh, and the wine made his Blood. 9 And their God spoke through this miracle, and said,10 "Take and eat; this is my body.11 Drink from it, all of you.12 This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.13 I tell you, I will not drink from this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom."
14 And it was in this manner that Atri was greatly comforted, for he'd found a blade sharper than Pótnyā's15 and a service greater than any ever rendered unto the Vermilion Lord, by even the greatest of the Scarlet Children.
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On Blood and Bread
1"Take and eat!" Atri cried,2 but the women rebuffed him as they came and went.3 "Drink from it, all of you!" Atri cried,4 but the servants turned away, too.
5And all the while, the Princes kept their view.6 None were level on the mind,7 Nobody taken up at his word.
8"No reason to get excited,"9 one Prince kindly spoke.10 "There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke.11 But you have never been through that,12 and we know it is not your fate.13 So let us not talk falsely now.14 The hour is growing late."
15And it was with these words that the Princes did descend upon Atri,16 and tore him limb from limb.16 They dug into his skin with daggers, cleaving and flaying his flesh like the sweetest cuts of meat.17 And his blood was indeed like wine, and his heart was like fire.18 And as a silken noose tightened around his neck, and he was dragged to the watchtower, Atri did finally understand Pótnyā's words.19 And as he was thrown from the battlements, and body dashed against the wall,20 he did hold within his mind Pótnyā's sharpest dagger, that most delicious of words.
21Hatred.
22And Atri swore, with his final thoughts, that he would have the Princes killed,23 and it would be their brains dashed against the wall,24 though not before he saw the same done to that God.
25 And Atri did die with this prayer upon his lips, and He-Who-Rescues-Through-Violence did hear, and was glad.
27Outside, in the distance, 28 a wildcat did growl.29 Two riders were approaching.30 And as they passed beneath the shadow of Atri's broken body,31 they did see his blood was like wine,32 and they did see his flesh was like bread.33 And they took of this food, and toasted and swore oaths against the Princes,34 and so swore they and their children and their children would so serve Atri's dying wish.
35The wind began to howl.
