RABIDFOX

Item #: SCP-XXXX

Object Class: Safe Euclid

Special Containment Procedures:

SCP-XXXX is to be stored in a 10m x 10m x 10m containment cell located at Site-61 “The Missouri State Museum of Ozark Folklore”. Site-61 is to be staffed only with Foundation personnel born in the States of Missouri or Arkansas. Personnel born out of these states are not to enter a 50 mile Radius Exclusion Zone. Inside of the Exclusion Zone is a 10 mile radius civilian no-go zone. Containment cell is to be constructed of titanium and steel. Containment doors are to be fitted with electronic locks with a Security Clearance of Level 4. In addition to these, a secondary containment door weighting no less than 2 tons and comprising a .5m x 5m x 2.5m slab of Titanium. This Secondary Containment Door is to be suspended off the ground when not in use. Upon site incursion of opposing forces or a containment breach, the secondary door is to be dropped. Upon an all clear, cranes are to lift it back to its previous position. Containment area is to be guarded by no less than 4 armed guards. SCP-XXXX is not to come into contact with skeletons or offal of any kind.

Description: SCP-XXXX is a conglomeration of deformed skeletal structures centered around a single origin point, that being the skeleton of a Razorback Boar. Subject will oftentimes form itself into a Razorback Boar skeleton (15x larger than normal) made of various bones from humans and Animals and held together with tendons and veins. Vital organs are held inside a large permeable membrane sack within its “chest cavity” and as of the time of writing consists of: 5 Bull Hearts, 27 Human Lungs, 28 miles of digestive system.

The Head of SCP-XXXX is a Razorback Boar skull a red glow emits from the eye sockets. Origin is Unknown. The upper and lower mandibles are filled with teeth and claws from Bears, Mountain Lions, Humans and Dogs. SCP-XXXX has been noted to use much of the skeletons making up its body as crude weapons to pull victims toward it or make victims easier to chase.

SCP-XXXX is capable of Higher intelligence and is known to converse frequently, although this is hindered for unknown reasons. Despite its startling and generally repulsive appearance, SCP-XXXX is typically Docile and cooperative, even seen protecting personnel during a site raid. However when in the presence of Human subjects not born in the State of Missouri, (referred to now as SCP-XXXX-1) SCP-XXXX will enter a rage state and attempt to kill SCP-XXXX-1. However this behavior can be subdued by removing SCP-XXXX-1 from SCP-XXXX’s line of sight.

Upon incapacitating SCP-XXXX-1, SCP-XXXX wil drag the subject towards its mouth and chest cavity and proceed to [DATA EXPUNGED]. This is followed by SCP-XXXX keeping the victim alive as it chooses bones and organs to assimilate into its superstructure. Although this selection process is different every time there is a a certain selection that are common between victims: The Teeth of a subject will be removed and added to SCP-XXXX’s Mouth. When SCP-XXXX Is probed on this behavior is simply responds “Momentoes”

Exact Origin of SCP-XXXX is Unknown. However, Compiled investigation reports by MTF-Lambda 26 “Vance Randolph” and the Interviews with SCP-[REDACTED], SCP-XXXX is the Character “Raw-head and Bloody Bones” from an Ozark Folktale of that same name.

Addendum:
[THE FOLLOWING IS A FOLKTALE UNCOVERED BY MTF-LAMBDA 26.]
Deep in the Ozarks of Missouri and Arkansas lived a young shamaness, a Witch by the name of Alice. Alice was respected by the Hillfolk of the town of Marmaros as she was the only sight of medical attention for the secluded town. Alice had a pet Razorback hog she named Rawhead, for his constant need to root through her kitchen garbage till his head was all squishy. Overtime Rawhead began eating the left overs of the Alice’s potions and spells and inevitably became magical. Rawhead was able to speak, he was smart and some folks claimed he could walk on his hind legs. To Alice, he was the only one who kept her company in her isolated rickety old cabin.

One day Alice awoke with a start. Cold sweat dropped down her brow. “Just a dream” she said, “Nothing more…” Alice dresses and got ready to head to town. It was Wednesday and she was expecting a parcel from the Local butcher. She stepped out the door, basket in hand, walking bluffs and trails of the Ozarks. Rawhead did so love going to the butchers so he could eat the left over scraps of whatever the butcher couldn’t sell. Speaking of Rawhead, where was he? Usually he would wake up early and wait for Alice to escort her to the town. She worried for a second but thought to herself, “That silly Hog! I bet he’s already down there mopping up gore!”

But when she entered the town and when to the butcher’s the old man behind the counter said he hadn’t seen Rawhead. This was strange. That hog always visited the butcher when ever he could. She started back to the cabin and on her way out the door she was bumped in the shoulder by a Hunter. The hunter named Matt was a new arrival to the Ozarks, and ain’t nobody liked him. It was unknown just how many counts of kills he stole, or ho many times he committed hunting malpractice. “Outta the way, witch!” Matt grumbled, a bloody burlap bag slung over his shoulder. Alice ignored him, but his bag made her worry.

She passed over the Knobs in record time, in fear for her friend. She barged into the cabin and began filling a cauldron with various potions until it was silver like mercury. “Where has that hog went out to?” She said, her voice trembling. A vision came through the liquid and she watched the Hunter kill, skin, gut and dismember Rawhead, his skull laying lopsided by a bloody table. Alice wept. Watching her best friend being butchered tore at her heart as she lay on the floor in a sobbing mess.

Soon enough, Alice darted up in a rage and grabbed one of her spell books. This book she dared not touched before, a book filled with hate and anger. She flipped to a page and began her incantation. As she chanted a storm had rolled in and lightning began striking the ground. In the Next perish over, a bolt struck Rawhead’s skull. He rattled and hopped and made haste to a pile of bone, rebuilding himself with the corpses of others hogs.