Scented_Shadow

Item #: SCP-XXXX

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Every instance of SCP-XXXX-1 is to be contained in a dark room and have its movement restricted so that no light source from outside can reach it. The instance is to be checked on after a minimum of a week spent within containment. If SCP-XXXX is no longer present, the instance may be declared neutralized and released. If the instance is human, it should also be administered Class-C amnestics. However, if the effect of SCP-XXXX is still present at this time, the instance should resume containment and be checked on again after another week has passed. Any time an instance of SCP-XXXX-1 casts a shadow, a new week must pass before it is checked on again.

Any and all individuals involved with SCP-XXXX are to be extremely cautious not to touch a shadow cast by an instance of SCP-XXXX-1 with one's own. If this does occur, the individuals in question are to be treated as new instances of SCP-XXXX-1 immediately.

Description: SCP-XXXX is an extremely contagious anomalous condition. Affected individuals are hereon referred to as instances of SCP-XXXX-1. Both human and non-human individuals are susceptible to infection, though inanimate objects and plant life remain unaffected. SCP-XXXX spreads through shadow contact; overlap between shadows cast by a healthy individual and an instance of SCP-XXXX-1 will immediately spread SCP-XXXX to the formerly unaffected individual. As a result, SCP-XXXX has the potential to spread at alarming rates in large crowds or areas with multiple light sources.

Instances of SCP-XXXX-1 appear to be entirely unable to detect the effects of SCP-XXXX; even when explicitly made aware of their symptoms, they fail to notice them.
Interestingly, SCP-XXXX disappears completely if SCP-XXXX-1 goes an extended period of time without casting any part of a shadow. The amount of time necessary appears to vary between 72 to 168 hours. This method is currently the only known way of curing SCP-XXXX.

SCP-XXXX causes a distinct scent to constantly eminate from the affected individual's shadow. The type of scent differs per instance of SCP-XXXX-1, and a wide range of possibilities has been observed, with smells resembling anything from slightly caramelized sugar or fully seasoned meals to murine droppings or the scent of rafflesia arnoldii. There is no pattern predicting what type of scent an instance of SCP-XXXX-1 will secrete; the process appears to be entirely randomized.
This scent can be perceived by any organism capable of olfaction (aside from SCP-XXXX-1 itself), and any such organism is able to locate its source as being the affected individual's shadow. If the instance of SCP-XXXX-1 ceases to cast a shadow, the scent will also instantly cease to exist, only reemerging once any part of the instance's body casts a shadow again.

Though otherwise harmless, SCP-XXXX can go undetected for long periods of time. Embarassment or politeness norms may prevent SCP-XXXX-1 instances from ever being made aware of the scent surrounding them, and certain scents may be chalked up to personal health or hygiene issues, or perhaps occupation or hobbies.

It is unknown how many uncontained instances of SCP-XXXX-1 currently exist.

Alright, me: here's what's up. I want some [cheap trick] ass parasite ass demon to cling on to people, and be the actual cause of this. it can be undetectable and all that, and only mildly hint at this shit through some addenda. it'd be allergic to direct sunlight, like, die or burn in it or something, yet need the solar radiation; so they suck it from the victims they're attached to, and secrete some funky smell as waste product. they make eggs too and will stick em on new victims when they can (e.g. when shadows overlap) by shooting them out like a bunch of KIKKERDRIL ass looking eggs, but they die if they touch sunlight so they gotta stay within shadows. SOUNDS PRETTY GOOD TO ME

only unresolved thing now is how the fuck the smells they make are so diverse, but hey, gotta make this shit interesting somehow

"Seriously? We have to gear up in fuckin' hazmat suits, just to buy a pizza?"

The newly employed research assistant couldn't help but chuckle at the mental image that came to him while reading the file.

"This is a serious matter, Francis. Please treat it as such."

Dr. Alex Ganz shot the young man a stern glance. He responded defensively.

"But hazmat suits, doctor. Come on. It's kinda funny."

"The containment procedures weren't always that convoluted for this one. The safety measures actually got upped because one of them almost killed me."

Francis' grin disappeared as his eyebrows shot up. He stumbled over his words, taken aback by the doctor's casual remark.

"Wait- the…the pizza almost killed you? How did that happen?"

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEE-
As usual, Jeremy awoke to the nagging sound of his alarm clock. He groaned as he turned it off and got out of bed, pushing a part of his unwashed pile of clothing off the edge. Not feeling a cold shower in the morning and too broke to get the boiler fixed, he decided the world was just going to have to deal with his stench today. He went to put on his work uniform. He hadn't washed that in a while either. Why bother? It's not like he was going to interact with any real customers anyway. He caught a glimpse of himself in the chipped mirror as he pulled the company shirt over his head. Baggy eyes. Messy, greasy, chin-length ash blonde hair that went in all directions except down, as gravity should dictate. A hunched-over, scrawny body, yet plump belly. He also hadn't shaved since last week, but he simply couldn't grow any more than the prickly, glorified five-o'-clock shadow he had now. He sighed. He knew those guys from that organization weren't going to be happy with him, but he simply couldn't be assed with anything today. They should be glad he even got out of bed for them in the morning. He decided to skip breakfast as he waited.

A little over two hours later, his phone finally rang. He picked up.

"Jeremy, we've got anoth-"

"Yeah, yeah, I figured already. I'm heading over."

He chucked his phone on the table, knocking over some of the empty energy drink cans in the process. He made his way over to the door, carefully maneuvering through the mess on his apartment floor. He sniffed as he felt his nose starting to run. He grabbed an opened bag of tissues and stuffed it in his jacket as he put it on. He snatched the motorcycle keys off of a shelf over his head, dragging off some dust in doing so. Still coughing, sniffing and sneezing as he turned on the ignition of his delivery motorcycle, he briefly considered calling it off today. However, he decided he needed the money and drove off.

After parking his motorcycle next to the other ones in the parking lot, he hesitantly walked towards the staff entrance. As he opened and entered though the heavy back door, the smell of pizza filled the air immediately. Even with his clogged nose, he could make out the distinct scent. He retched. As he walked through the hallway to the kitchen, he passed the lounge. A familiar voice shouted at him from inside.

"Hey, Jer!"

"Oh, hey Jim."

"What's up, dude? Long time no see."

"I guess they never, like, call me during your work hours or something."

"Well, at least they're doing something to help you, right? You're still getting paid?"

"Like, barely over minimum wage. But yeah."

"Well, that's good, right? How you holding up these days, you don't look so good."

"I think I'm getting, like, sick or something."

"I'm pretty sure you already are, man. You only do one delivery every time, right? Want me to take over for ya? I'm on my break right now anyway."

"Nah. Can't."

"It's fine Jer, reall-"

"No, it's like; I have to do it. Can't be someone else or whatever."

"Why not?"

"Dunno. I don't really, like, get what's going on anyway."

"Well…if you insist. I won't hold you up any further."

"I guess I'll keep you updated or something."

"Alright, get well soon Jer!"

"Thanks for, like…for giving a shit, Jim."

"That's what we're buds for, right?"

Jeremy nodded and he continued his way to the kitchen. He made it about 3 steps in before being intercepted by Martín, the head chef.

"Keep your conversations with coworkers for after-hours, yeah? The pizza's getting cold. Here, take the box. Check if the order's right."

Martín swiftly handed Jeremy their home-brand delivery box. The order ticket lay on top of it.

"Pepperoni, olives, blue cheese…"

Jeremy mumbled to himself, reading off the ticket. He opened the box. It looked exactly as ordered. For now. He sighed and closed the box. Just in time, too, because he started coughing again.

"Jeremy! Get out of the kitchen before you infect all of us! Go deliver that, and try not to sneeze on it, yeah? Chop chop!"

Martín was gesturing at him in an agitated manner. Jeremy quickly blew his nose with the tissues from his pocket, then hurried back through the hallway and the back door with the box in one hand, and the ticket in the other. He loaded the pizza box into the cubical container on the back of his motorcycle, then got on. Out of habit, he briefly checked the delivery address noted on the ticket. Not that there was any reason to; he already knew where he was going. He only ever went there, after all.

The road to his destination would always become less and less crowded as he drove on. The nearer he got, the less traffic would pass him by. Eventually, only the occasional car would head in his direction from the other side of the road. Sometimes, he'd even encounter bigger vehicles. He'd seen an armored truck once. Its drivers would often shoot him curious glances as he awkwardly rode along on his delivery motorcycle. It made him feel slightly out of place, but Jeremy had decided long ago that he'd stop wasting energy trying to figure out everything that was going on around him. Eventually, the enormous, looming building would start rising up from the horizon in the distance. That intimidating, heavily guarded and uninviting structure was his destination.

Finally, he arrived at the gigantic metal gates. He parked his motorcycle against the barbed wire-topped concrete wall adjacent to them, as per his very specific instructions. He took the pizza box out of the container on the back. An armed guard approached him.

"Hey, Jeffrey! That's your name, right?"

"It's Jeremy."

"Right, right. Whatcha got this time?"

He gestured at the pizza box, still holding his firearm in hand. Jeremy shrugged.

"Who knows."

Noticing his partner raising his gun, the second guard walked up.

"We having a problem here?"

"Ha ha, no. See, George? That's the guy I was talking about earlier. From the one file. The pizza thing."

"Oh, wow, you look worse than you do in the photo, dude. You feeling okay?"

"It's fine. Can I, like, pass through, please? I wanna go home already."

"Just a moment. We'll call you in, and they'll open the gate for you. You know the drill."

Jeremy nodded, and started sniffing again as he watched the guard press a button on the walkie-talkie on his shoulder.

"Hello hello, this is gate A. We got SCP-3275-2 over here. Please open the gate to let him in, over."

Jeremy didn't quite get this code number they kept throwing around, but he would only get vague answers whenever he inquired about it. Eventually, he stopped asking. He kind of got used to it, anyway.

After a few seconds, the large gate began opening. Creaking and groaning as it slid into the wall, it slowly started revealing the way to the facility.

Jeremy walked around the building until he found the oddly normal-sized door. He knew exactly where to find it by now; he had gotten lost on the big concrete site the first few times, though. He coughed a couple of times, blew his nose with the tissues in his pocket, and waited. After a minute or so, the door opened.

"Hey, Jeremy!"

"Hello, Dr. Ganz."

"Oh, you can call me Alex when we're off record like this. I'm just your customer right now, after all."

Jeremy nodded in understanding. The doctor was a surprisingly nice person to talk to, for a scientist.

"So, how much do I owe you?"

"Uh…"

Jeremy grabbed the ticket to check. He sneezed.

"Lessee…12,95, please."

The doctor handed him a $20 bill.

"There you go. Keep the change."

Jeremy gratefully took the money and handed over the pizza box. Dr. Ganz sniffed it, then suddenly recoiled.

"Oh fuck! Good Lord, what is on this pizza?"

"Wha- is there a problem with it, doc-…a-Alex??"

"It's just- oh, fuck me, that's foul."

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"Jeremy, please stay outside. I want to ask you some questions after I put this pizza box somewhere safe."

"Is it…is it, like, dangerous?"

"Well, the smell coming off of it is stinging my nose. That can't be good. Now, please wait."

Dr. Ganz quickly went inside with the box and closed the door. Jeremy waited, as he was told. He felt bad. What if there was something super lethal on the pizza this time? Could the doctor die from it? He hoped not. He sneezed, then sat down against the wall, defeated.

Five minutes later, the door opened again. Jeremy got up, expecting to see Dr. Ganz, but was instead met with an unfamiliar face. The nametag on his labcoat revealed that the person in front of him went by H. Jensen. The middle-aged man sounded annoyed, and seemed to be in a hurry to get this over with.

"You're dash-two?"

"Uh…"

"Sorry, Jeremy, right?"

"Oh, yeah, I am. Is…is the doctor alright?"

"Dr. Ganz actually requested I bring you inside. Worried you'd catch cold out here. From the looks of it you already did, though. Anyway, it'll take a while before we're done dealing with the specimen you've managed to generate this time."

"I'm really sorry, man…"

"Regardless, follow me. Don't touch anything, and don't go anywhere unless I tell you to. Don't ask questions either."

He turned around swiftly, his labcoat trailing behind him, and Jeremy hurriedly walked in after the stern looking man.

"Close the door behind you."

Jeremy did as he was asked, and timidly followed the man through several hallways. He'd never actually gone inside before, so he was quite curious to look around. There wasn't very much to admire, however. Everything was dark, metallic and angular. The look and smell of the building's interior reminded him of a hospital, but somehow even colder and less inviting. The sole light source consisted of fluorescent tubes embedded into the ceiling. The rooms and areas he passed had the occasional glass window, but there wasn't enough time to look inside as the older man was walking at a quick pace. Eventually, he passed a bigger open area. It seemed to be a break room of sorts, with seating areas, lockers, and vending machines. After a couple more hallways, the man stopped. He opened the door to a room and gestured Jeremy inside.

"Wait here. Dr. Ganz will be back to talk with you in due time. Again, don't touch anything."

"Well, except for, like, the chair right? I gotta sit on it somehow, haha…"

The man seemed unimpressed and turned around.

"Wait, man. Uh…how long will this take?"

The man looked back.

"Do you have somewhere else to be today?"

"Well, no, but like-"

"Then you'll be fine."

With those words, he closed the door and walked away.

Jeremy looked around the room he was now awkwardly sitting in. It seemed to be quite a standard-looking office; small, cubical, and carpeted. It had no windows, making the door he came in through the only gateway to the outside. Against the wall on his left stood two metal filing cabinets, and the desk he sat in front of housed a couple more similar-looking drawers. Jeremy appeared to be seated in a guest's chair; he could see an office chair and metal bin across from him, and a small lamp seemed to be aimed at the opposite side of the desk as well. His eye fell on the back of a picture frame. He reached for it and turned it around. It contained the picture of a cat. He felt a sneeze coming on, remembered he wasn't supposed to be touching anything, and quickly put the framed photograph back where he found it. He sneezed into his arm and slunk down back down in his chair. A ticking sound clued him in on the clock hanging on the wall behind him. Jeremy just stared at it, watching first two, then five, and eventually ten minutes pass by. He sighed, which led into a cough. He took out the tissues in his pocket and blew his nose. His head was pounding. He just wanted to go home.

The twenty five minutes that ended up passing had felt like an eternity, but eventually, the door finally opened. Jeremy looked up and was pleased to see Dr. Ganz standing in the doorway.

"Hey Jeremy, thanks for waiting. How are you holding up?"

"I should be asking you that, doc; are you, like, okay and stuff?"

"I'm fine now. However, I'll be honest with you, it could've ended badly. We'll have to change up our procedures, which means things are going to be different for you as well."

"Why? What happened?"

"We're still trying to figure out why this particular thing happened at this particular time, but I can tell you what we know so far."

Dr. Ganz had taken a seat in the office chair and continued, hands clasped on top of the desk.

"The pizza you handed me contained rat poison."

Jeremy was stunned. He softly started uttering "Oh fuck", but was interrupted by the doctor.

"Now, this wouldn't have been a problem if it were regular rat poison, straight out of its container. However, as we have seen with previous instances, it's not quite that simple with these pizzas. You remember that order for a pizza without $100 bills?"

Jeremy simply nodded.

"When you handed me the pizza, not only did it contain the bills, they were damaged and burnt. As if someone prepared them like a regular topping; ripped into smaller pieces, and then put in the oven."

Jeremy didn't respond. He just stared at the doctor, confused.

"Now, as I said, rat poison isn't normally dangerous to humans until they ingest it. However, if you were to heat it up until it decomposed, it would produce harmful, irritating fumes. Luckily, this is about 300 degrees above room temperature, so again, this normally isn't a problem. However…the rat poison on this pizza manifested as if prepared like a regular topping."

A sinking feeling hit Jeremy as he realized where Dr. Ganz was going.

"Pizza ovens get pretty hot, Jeremy. Hot enough to decompose diphenadione, it seems."

Jeremy shot up out of his chair, panicked.

"Doctor, I-I'm like, really sorry about this. I swear, I never meant for any of this to happen to you."

"I understand, Jeremy. Please calm down, you're not in trouble. But it does bring me to my next point."

Jeremy sat back down as the doctor continued.

"As I mentioned earlier, we're going to have to make some changes to our protocol. Since it's apparently possible for these pizzas to generate potentially lethal toppings, we're going to have to be way more careful in how we handle things. We will have to minimize the amount of people you're in contact with during the delivery process."

"So I don't…like…kill anybody?"

"Yes."

"I see."

"We're going to arrange a system where you won't be seeing the guards in person anymore; they'll identify you through cameras and let you get onto the facility grounds remotely. You'll have to go to a different area of the facility that's more secure to hand the pizzas over. Contact with you or the pizza box will be minimal. You will still get your money, of course."

"Okay…I understand. But that's kinda, like…depressing, man. I mean…can't I just quit this job? I'm so tired of all this bullshit and stuff. If I just, like, quit, it'll all be over, right?"

"I understand how you feel, Jeremy. But we can't allow that. We don't know what would happen if you quit the job. For all we know, weird things would start happening to you in another manner. Right now it's at least decently predictable, and thus safe."

"Except for the fact that you could've, like, actually died!"

Jeremy started coughing again. He doubled over, his hand over his mouth.

"Are you ill?"

"It's fine."

"How long have you been ill?"

"I don't freaking know, man. I don't, like, keep track of that stuff. A pretty long time, though."

The doctor looked Jeremy up and down for a moment.

"Do you still have a roof over your head?"

"Man, I know I look kinda homeless, alright? Get off my back."

Jeremy felt himself getting a bit agitated, then immediately felt bad. Yet he continued, mumbling:

"Starting to sound like my mom."

The doctor didn't reply.

"I'm saying it's fine."

The doctor was still quiet, seemingly contemplating something. Jeremy sighed and waited until Dr. Ganz broke the silence.

"Jeremy, I'm going to have to send some people to escort you home. They're going to have a look around there."

"Oh, come on. Why?"

"I'm concerned about you."

"What do you care? It's my fucking life! I don't need your…like…your sympathy or whatever."

"Jeremy-"

"It's none of your business!"

Jeremy didn't mean to lash out at Dr. Ganz, but the frustrations just boiled over. The doctor continued calmly.

"Jeremy, it's simply in our best interests as well as yours that you remain in good health."

"But I'm fine!"

"I disagree, Jeremy. But I'll put it more simply for you; you don't have a choice in the matter."

"Man, I don't even know who you people are. You're just some big, weird, like, research place, right? You have no right to do this shit."

"Jeremy, the conversation is over. You'll be leaving now. We'll be in contact soon, okay?"

Jeremy sighed. He blew his nose again, then got up from his chair and turned away from Dr. Ganz.

"It's very exhausting to deal with all this shit, man."

Dr. Ganz was silent for a moment.

"I'll see if I can…get something arranged for you."

"Like what?"

"I'll have to get back to you on that at a later time. As I said, it's in both of our interests for you to be in good health."

Jeremy sighed once again. Dr. Ganz got up, opened the door and gestured Jeremy outside. They both silently exited the room, and Jeremy proceeded to timidly follow the doctor through the hallways as he was led towards the door he entered the building through. He stopped right at its doorstep.

"Doctor, I…um…thanks, for like, uh…for putting up with me and stuff. It must be a super hassle."

To Jeremy's surprise, the doctor smiled.

"Don't worry about that, kid. We'll live."

Jeremy pulled the unsuspecting doctor in for a hug after what was meant to be a simple handshake. He felt some pats on his back.

"Alright, alright. Just wait near your motorcycle, okay? I'll send the escort team outside as soon as possible."

Jeremy let go of the doctor and started walking off. He looked back. The doctor gave him a quick wave.

"Take care now, Jeremy."

He waved back.

"Thank you, doc-" He corrected himself. "Thank you, Alex."

Dr. Jensen impatiently waited for Dr. Ganz to take a seat. He tapped his foot up and down and folded his arms.

"I've had enough of this now, Alex. Dash-two just needs to be contained."

"He's just a kid. There's no need to lock him up."

"You've JUST experienced firsthand how dangerous he can be! We've got tons of children contained here. We simply don't have a choice. These things pose a danger to society. Right now, dash-two is a danger as well, and thus he should be contained. We'll get rid of the anomaly too, since he won't be delivering these stupid pizzas anymore either."

"Don't be ridiculous Howard, the kid is not the problem here. He's a victim of the anomaly just as much as I am."

"Then what do you propose we do about this? We can't go around poisoning any other researchers here."

"We'll just up the safety measures of the entire protocol. Besides, I had a hunch earlier."

"Hunches don't get us anywhere, Alex."

"Just hear me out, alright? I just got reports back from the escort team that brought Jeremy home. About his living conditions. There's something interesting about this whole deal, but we'll have to do a little more experiments to be sure."

"You need to stop referring to dash-two by name. You're not supposed to get attached to subjects."

Dr. Ganz grinned.

"You've been referring to this subject as 'he' instead of 'it', though."

Dr. Jensen seemed flustered for a second, but regained composure swiftly. He got up from his chair.

"You know what? Do whatever you want with dash-two. I'll hand the head researcher position over to you as well. I'm done working on this case."

Dr. Ganz was elated.

"Really?"

"Wow."

Francis exhaled.

"So that's when dash-two started getting counselling sessions."

"Mhm."

Dr. Ganz nodded.

"Welp…"

Francis looked down at his lunchplate.

"You want the rest of this pizza, doc?"

<=tbc=

'de klankentapper'
scented shadow
oracle.exe ('you'll die today' virus)
snuggie/WTFblanket (-J?)
generic killmonster that twitches its head weirdly (like boyoin dude from one piece) and makes a ticking sound doing so; attacks people whose 'time' is up, you hear a ticking sound as it stalks you and youre about to die Done!
that mirror shit
crazy cat lady
infohazard that's bad to know about for too long
retry scratchy boy [WOKE/CHAD LEVEL]
I'm fourteen and this is deep
tale: 4975 fairy tale [top secret]
balloon that steals children up into the air
nostalgia critic creepypasta
something that does something to your tongue
alot
the sheer degree of coldness of my fucking handsnfeet
thing that makes animals kill themselves and no one can explain why
npc town where people can only get anything actually done when interacted with and they give quests and whatnot

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Bibliography

1. full source reference

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Test A - Date

Subject:
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An engraving by ████ ██ █████, dating back to 1863. Believed to be a depiction of SCP-XXXX.

Item #: SCP-XXXX

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is to be contained in a standard steel containment cell. Human contact with SCP-XXXX is prohibited.

In case of a containment breach, any Foundation personnel persistently hearing a rhythmic cracking noise are to isolate themselves from other people and patiently wait until SCP-XXXX is put back in its containment chamber, or the cracking stops.

Description: SCP-XXXX is a vaguely humanoid entity with various avian attributes, the most notable of which is its beak. Its body structure is long and thin overall, and its limbs taper off into formless extremities, lacking distinct digits. A thick, hardened skin layer covers the entirety of its body, including its beak.

Its cervical vertebrae are not interconnected, and appear to be able to move independently of one another. SCP-XXXX continuously rotates them one vertebra at a time, from back to front, ending with its head, in a rhythmic fashion. This produces a clicking or cracking sound with each movement. SCP-XXXX only stops moving its neck in this manner when it is preparing for an attack.

SCP-XXXX has been observed to stalk future victims for extended periods of time before finally deciding to attack, sometimes as long as 10 months or more. It kills its victim by means of its appendages, which it uses to bludgeon and tear at the victim's body. It will always eat the cadaver afterward, and an average adult human appears to last it about 3 months.

SCP-XXXX is thought to be the subject of multiple folk tales from Germany, its country of origin. Evidence of SCP-XXXX dates as far back as 1538, with both written and visual artistic depictions of it having been uncovered from that time period. There are also multiple German nursery rhymes that are thought to concern SCP-XXXX, one of which can be found in Addendum XXXX-B.

Despite SCP-XXXX's permanent presence in its containment cell, new incidents and sightings continue to be reported from its region of origin. Investigation by Foundation operatives is currently underway. Investigation discontinued indefinitely. Reclassification of SCP-XXXX to Keter-class currently pending. See Addendum XXXX-A.

Addendum XXXX-A: The following event log details the contents of a video captured by the bodycam of one of the Foundation operatives investigating recent SCP-XXXX-related reports near the Black Forest (Schwarzwald), Germany. No audio was recorded.

<Begin Log, 16-09-2002, 13:52:49>

Foreword: Foundation operatives were investigating a Freiburg citizen who had told local law enforcement that he had been hearing a rhythmic clicking noise for over 4 months, and that someone was stalking him. The operatives had taken him into their custody and told law enforcement that he experienced paranoia and auditory hallucinations due to side effects of the chemotherapy he was receiving at that time as a cover-up. The following was recorded on the day they had ordered the man to show them where he had last seen SCP-XXXX.

Several armed Foundation operatives are walking in a wooded area. One can be seen talking into a handheld transceiver. A Freiburg citizen is among them. He appears to be out of breath and nervous, looking around frantically and clutching his arms to his chest. After a few minutes go by, he freezes in place. He says something and points towards a tree. Some of the operatives turn to see what he is looking at. They appear confused. There is nothing behind the tree visible on camera. The man seems to panic and stumbles backwards, still pointing at nothing.

Note: According to surveillance footage, at this exact time, SCP-XXXX had stopped rotating its neck and was instead staring motionless at the southeastern corner of its containment cell.

Suddenly, the local man is forcibly thrown to the ground. He is struck multiple times in the head and torso by an unseen aggressor. Several operatives fire at the presumed source of the attack, but hit nothing. One attempts to grab the man and drag him away, but a large wound starts appearing on his midriff, from where he seems to be anchored. The operative gives up after attempting to move the man only further tears open the wound. The operative talking into the handheld transceiver then raises his firearm and shoots the local man in the head, killing him. After a few moments, strips of flesh start to get ripped off the dead body one by one. Once the strips are completely detached from the body, they vanish.

Note: At this time, SCP-XXXX, which had not been fed, appeared to be eating.

<End Log, 16-09-2002, 13:57:02>

Addendum XXXX-B: An old nursery rhyme from Germany, believed to be about SCP-XXXX. It has lost most of its rhyming scheme due to being translated from German.

"Tick tock", the cuckoo clock ticks.
"Cuckoo", the bird inside sings.
Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock.

As ticks the time, so ticks your heart.
May you live long as you hear its song.
Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock.

Listen close, for when it stops
the hatchling comes out of its home.
Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick-

Did you hear it? Did it stop?
My child, it meant your time was up.

Item #: SCP-XXXX

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: When an instance of SCP-XXXX-1 is discovered, it is to be contained in a dark room and have its movement restricted so that no light source from outside can cast its shadow. The instance is to be checked on after a minimum of a week spent within containment. If SCP-XXXX is no longer present, the instance may be declared neutralized and released. If the instance is human, it should also be administered Class-C amnestics. However, if the effect of SCP-XXXX is still present at this time, the instance should resume containment and be checked on again after another week has passed. If at any time an instance of SCP-XXXX-1 does cast a shadow, a new week must pass before it is checked on again.

Any and all individuals involved with the instance are to be extremely cautious not to touch a shadow cast by SCP-XXXX-1 with one's own. If this does occur, the individual whose shadow touched SCP-XXXX-1's is to be treated as another instance of SCP-XXXX-1 immediately.

Description: SCP-XXXX is an anomalous condition causing affected individuals' shadows to give off a distinct scent. Such individuals will hereon be designated as instances of SCP-XXXX-1. The type of scent differs per instance of SCP-XXXX-1, and has been observed to range from slightly caramelized sugar or fully seasoned meals, to murine droppings or the scent of rafflesia arnoldii. No pattern has as of yet been discovered predicting what type of scent an instance of SCP-XXXX-1 will secrete; the process appears to be entirely randomized¹.
This scent can be perceived by any organism capable of olfaction, and any such organism near an instance of SCP-XXXX-1 has been shown to be able to locate its source as being the affected individual's shadow. If the instance of SCP-XXXX-1 ceases to cast a shadow, the scent will also instantly cease to exist, only reemerging once any part of the instance's body casts a shadow.

SCP-XXXX is highly contagious, as overlap between an unaffected individual's shadow and that of an instance of SCP-XXXX-1 will cause the former to instantly become an instance of SCP-XXXX-1 as well. As a result, SCP-XXXX has the potential to spread at alarming rates in large crowds, or areas with multiple light sources generating several shadows for any single object. It should be noted that anything carried around by an instance of SCP-XXXX-1, such as clothing or held items, cast shadows that count as being part of the SCP-XXXX-1 instance.

The effects of SCP-XXXX have shown to cease entirely, without returning, if an instance of SCP-XXXX-1 goes an extended period of time without casting any part of a shadow. The minimal required amount of time spent without a shadow to make SCP-XXXX disappear is estimated to vary between 72 and 168 hours.

Though SCP-XXXX can affect both human and non-human individuals, it does not affect inanimate objects or plant life. The speculated reason behind this is that neither plants nor lifeless objects have the ability to move from one place to another, and therefore too little potential to spread SCP-XXXX before its effects fade.

It is unknown how many uncontained instances of SCP-XXXX-1 currently exist.

Addendum: a

Item #: SCP-XXXX

Object Class: Safe Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX, being an event, cannot physically be contained.

Instances of SCP-XXXX-1 are acquired only for analysis and are subsequently destroyed. Any and all instances of SCP-XXXX-1 should be delivered to a facility owned by the Foundation. Only personnel with security clearance Level 2 or higher are allowed to handle cases of SCP-XXXX-1, and, while doing so, wearing a Level A hazmat suit is required.
It is important in ensuring that SCP-XXXX's range of effect remains stable and under the Foundation's control, that new instances of SCP-XXXX-1 continue to be acquired and analyzed. Any employee involved with SCP-XXXX is to make note of suspicious changes to the anomaly's formula. The Project Head² is to be contacted in such cases³.

SCP-XXXX-2 must not be contained and should resume employment with █████████ Pizza as would normally be the case⁴. However, if at any time a Foundation researcher judges an instance of SCP-XXXX-1 to warrant a higher threat level, the decision can be made to incarcerate or, if judged to be necessary, terminate SCP-XXXX-2. Methods of containment are to be determined at that time, depending on SCP-XXXX-1's exact manifestations.

The procedure for ordering and receiving a delivery of SCP-XXXX-1 is as follows:

+ Show procedure

Description: SCP-XXXX is an event of variable nature that, as of right now, only occurs under very specific circumstances.

SCP-XXXX, as it presently manifests itself, causes any pizza delivered specifically by SCP-XXXX-2 to contain toppings that have 0% overlap with those mentioned in the customer's order. In this case, these pizzas affected by SCP-XXXX are referred to as instances of SCP-XXXX-1. All toppings specifically requested in the order are guaranteed to be absent, and all material that is present was either requested to be left out or was just not mentioned.

SCP-XXXX-2 is a non-anomalous human male by the name of ██████ ████████. He is, at the time of this writing (██-██-████) 22 years of age, 1.81 meters tall, and weighs 68.5 kilos. A full, uncensored mug shot is available to Foundation employees involved with SCP-XXXX upon request (contact the Project Head for such details). SCP-XXXX-2 delivers pizzas for █████████ Pizza, where he has worked since last September. From his very first order onward, every pizza he has attempted to deliver, without exception, has become a case of SCP-XXXX-1.

Camera monitoring by SCP-XXXX-2's employers (recorded prior to the Foundation's notification of SCP-XXXX's existence, but since made available to Foundation researchers) reveals that he receives the correctly prepared pizzas from the cooks, delivers to the correct addresses and does not swap boxes or toppings around at any point.
Furthermore, SCP-XXXX occurs with no other █████████ Pizza employee besides SCP-XXXX-2, who has indicated that no anomalous events like SCP-XXXX have ever affected him at any other point in his life⁶. This means that SCP-XXXX is currently exclusive to the specific situation of "█████████ Pizza" orders being delivered by SCP-XXXX-2. It is unknown at which point in time during the delivery process SCP-XXXX actually occurs.

Presently, the consensus regarding SCP-XXXX is up for debate. Recent analyses on SCP-XXXX-1 instances have shown a certain degree of instability in its manifestations, suggesting that there is reason to be wary of similar changes concerning the anomaly and its range of occurrence.⁷

Addendum: tba

[STUFF THAT I SHOULD ADD IN SOMEWHERE BUT HAVE YET TO. THEY WILL PROBABLY BE INCLUDED SOMEHOW IN THE EXPERIMENT LOGS]
Note: although previously thought to be harmless in spite of its anomalous nature, SCP-XXXX has started manifesting more extreme variances of SCP-XXXX-1, which do have potential for harm. The amount of experimentation done on SCP-XXXX has already been intensified and its containment procedures and object class adjusted accordingly, but extreme care and continuous testing of new SCP-XXXX-1 instances is required to closely monitor the stability of the anomaly.

+ Addendum XXXX-A: Interview transcript

- Addendum XXXX-A: Interview transcript

Interviewed: SCP-XXXX-2.

Interviewer: Dr. Ganz.

Foreword: Interview conducted on the day SCP-XXXX-2 was first met (██-██-████).

<Begin Log, 15:40:38>

Dr. Ganz: Alright, I know we introduced ourselves to one another right before this, but I need you to state your name for documentation purposes please.

SCP-XXXX-2: Oh, uh…right, ██████.

Dr. Ganz: Last name too, please.

SCP-XXXX-2: Oh, shit, I didn't know I had to man, sorry. It's ████████.

Dr. Ganz: Thank you. So, you know what this interview is about, right?

SCP-XXXX-2: Man, me and those fucking pizzas, man. It's frustrating for me too, honestly. Though I don't really get why this all is necessary, no. Like, what are you, like a cop? This feels like I'm really, like, being detained or something.

Dr. Ganz: You are, for now, but we really just need you to answer questions. You're not currently being accused of anything.

SCP-XXXX-2: Alright, 'cause I swear dude, I'm NOT messing with the pizzas. I SWEAR. It's like I'm being, like, sabotaged or something. I don't think I've gotten a single one right.

Dr. Ganz: Not one? Since the first day you worked there?

SCP-XXXX-2: Not a single fucking one. And this JUST happens to me, 'cause like, I asked my colleague ███, and he's had, like, NO problems like this. No one else that I asked did. Is someone out to frame me for something? Again, I don't really know what this, like, place is, but you gotta find a way to fix this, man. It's frustrating as hell.

Dr. Ganz: Right, so can you run me through one of these incidents?

SCP-XXXX-2: Uh, what do you mean? Like, which one?

Dr. Ganz: Not any one in particular, just paint me a general picture of what the average 'weird pizza thing' is like for you.

SCP-XXXX-2: Oh, uh, yeah. So like, I should just basically tell you, like, a 'day in the life of me'? When I'm working, I mean.

Dr. Ganz: If you will.

SCP-XXXX-2: Right, so, say this customer calls our place, right. And they order, like, a Party Pizza, but they-

Dr. Ganz: What's a Party Pizza?

SCP-XXXX-2: Oh, it's just one of those things we serve. It has, like, a thousand different toppings. Pepperoni, cheese, uh, pineapple, spinach, bacon…bell peppers, uh….oh, olives, eh…-

Dr. Ganz: Alright, I got the picture, please continue.

SCP-XXXX-2: Yeah, so like, say someone orders a Party Pizza but they go, like, 'yeah my son has a pineapple allergy, so like, please leave those out of it'. Cool, right? So they just put everything else on it.

Dr. Ganz: Go on.

SCP-XXXX-2: Okay, so our cooks, like, make that. They hand it to me with the address of the guy that ordered it. Usually I, like, look in the box at this point, to check. Not that it fucking matters in the end, though. Then I drive over to their place with the pizza box on my scooter. I get there, ring the doorbell, the guy opens-

Dr. Ganz: You can skip actions that are irrelevant to the pizza problem.

SCP-XXXX-2: Oh…yeah, sorry. So, like, lately, my boss has made me check with the customer every time, as soon as I, like, hand the box over. So if it's wrong again, we'll know immediately and the customer won't have to, like, call, or like, leave a bad review or something. So yeah, the guy pays, and I go 'can you please check that to make sure that all is well?' So he opens the box, and what do you fucking think? A pizza with JUST anchovy and pineapple. Not even cheese. Now, anchovy is not on the Party Pizza, but who cares, so it's just, like, a bonus. But pineapple? The guy SPECIFICALLY said NOT to fucking put pineapple. Man, those ones in particular are so humiliating, man. I just wanna, like, disappear into the ground when that happens. I really don't understand. And then I have to, like, apologize for half an hour-

Dr. Ganz: So the pizza toppings change by themselves?

SCP-XXXX-2: I know it sounds crazy, man. But I don't know what else it could be.

Dr. Ganz: So-

SCP-XXXX-2: And it's not, like, JUST changing. It's, like, purposely changing into whatever is the fucking worst for me. Like, the more it's the opposite of what the people order, the better, or something.

Dr. Ganz: I see. So, has anything similar happened to you before?

SCP-XXXX-2: What do you mean? Like my example with the pineapple?

Dr. Ganz: No, I mean outside of your pizza delivery job. Did you ever experience weird events like this? Things changing on their own? Anything?

SCP-XXXX-2: Uh…no…no, I don't think so. I mean, some things are like, weird, but then at least you can like make up SOME kind of fucking explanation, right? But this pizza thing is straight up impossible, like, I keep the box shut literally the entire time. This is, like, TOO weird.

Dr. Ganz: And say that I were to ask you to bring over a pizza box from the other room right now. Would it happen too?

SCP-XXXX-2: No, man.

Dr. Ganz: Why not? How are you so sure?

SCP-XXXX-2: This thing, like, ONLY happens when I deliver. If I, like, pass my friend a box of chocolates, the chocolates don't change, know what I mean? Because he didn't order them. Though I don't know if it would happen with chocolates at all. I've only ever done pizza delivery.

Dr. Ganz: Alright, that will be all then. Thank you.

SCP-XXXX-2: No, wait, I have, like, a ton of things to ask about this, man. Is it really true that you're paying my boss to not fire me?

Dr. Ganz: We can discuss further questions off record.

<End Log, 15:45:21>

Closing Statement: SCP-XXXX-2 seems to have no control over the occurrence of SCP-XXXX. He is confused about the situation, but does not take further actions. No amnestics required.

+ Addendum XXXX-B: Test logs

- Addendum XXXX-B: Test logs

Experiment Log XXXX-B-000

Date: (██-██-████)
Ordered: Pepperoni pizza with extra cheese.
Delivered: Ham pizza with mushrooms.
Notes: This incident notified the Foundation of SCP-XXXX. The order was made at site 76 research assistant dr. O'Nelly's home, who was then subjected to SCP-XXXX-2's complaints of the recurring problem, noting the anomalous nature of his story. He requested SCP-XXXX-2 be brought in for questioning by the Foundation after calling █████████ Pizza to confirm SCP-XXXX-2's claims.

Experiment Log XXXX-B-001

Date: (██-██-████)
Ordered: Pepperoni pizza with extra cheese.
Delivered: Pepperoni pizza with extra cheese.
Notes: There seem to be no anomalous effects at play. NOTE (██-██-████): the assistant researcher who took the delivery from SCP-XXXX-2 did not pay him. The 'job' context is one of SCP-XXXXs necessary conditions; the lack of payment prevented that condition from being met, whereupon SCP-XXXX-1 failed to manifest. SCP-XXXX-2 is to be paid for his delivery from now on.

Experiment Log XXXX-B-002

Date: (██-██-████)
Ordered: Sausage pizza with olives, mushrooms and cheddar.
Delivered: Ham pizza with garlic, asparagus, basil and mozzarella.
Notes: SCP-XXXX-1 instances do not necessarily contain the same number of toppings as requested in the order.

Experiment Log XXXX-B-003

Date: (██-██-████)
Ordered: Pizza with nothing on it.
Delivered: Sweet corn and chili pepper pizza.
Notes: SCP-XXXX-1 instances do not necessarily manifest as the opposite of the order, as that should have yielded every available topping in this case.

Experiment Log XXXX-B-004

Date: (██-██-████)
Ordered: Pizza with nothing on it, aside from the standard tomato sauce bottom layer.
Delivered: Pizza crust with eggs and meatballs laying on it.
Notes: While the tomato sauce was present by default, even in experiment -003, it seems that explicitly asking for it caused it to be absent here.

Experiment Log XXXX-B-005

Date: (██-██-████)
Ordered: Sausage pizza with olives, mushrooms and cheddar.
Delivered: Bacon pizza with anchovy and cherry tomatoes.
Notes: SCP-XXXX-1 instances have no predictable pattern; the order was identical to the one in experiment -002, yet yielded completely different results.

Experiment Log XXXX-B-006

Date: (██-██-████)
Ordered: Bacon pizza with anchovy and cherry tomatoes.
Delivered: Beef and tuna pizza with cheddar.
Notes: Ordering a previously delivered instance of SCP-XXXX-1 (in this case, that of experiment -005) does not yield the order that preceded it, however, there is no longer zero overlap; the order of experiment -005 and the delivery of experiment -006 both contain cheddar.

Experiment Log XXXX-B-007

Date: (██-██-████)
Ordered: Beef and tuna pizza with cheddar.
Delivered: Pepperoni pizza with spinach and mushrooms.
Notes: The assistant researcher who took the delivery from SCP-XXXX-2 forgot to pay him, but SCP-XXXX-1 still manifested. Something might have been overlooked during experiment -001.

Experiment Log XXXX-B-008

Date: (██-██-████)
Ordered: Salami pizza with cheese, no mushrooms.
Delivered: Spinach pizza with olives and mushrooms.
Notes: If the order requests something be absent, SCP-XXXX-1 will contain it; the manifestation of SCP-XXXX-1 does not disregard the order, but in fact acknowledges and goes against it.

Experiment Log XXXX-B-009

Date: (██-██-████)
Ordered: Pepperoni pizza with olives and blue cheese.
Delivered: Ham pizza with bell peppers and liquid diphenadione⁸.
Notes: This is the first time SCP-XXXX-1 manifested a topping that is not meant to be used as such. The cooks at █████████ Pizza report that they do own 'a container of KillRat', a brand of rat poison.

NOTE: although previously thought to be harmless in spite of its anomalous nature, SCP-XXXX has started manifesting variances of SCP-XXXX-1 that do have potential for harm with its recent rat poison dressing. SCP-XXXXs object class and description as well as the handling procedures for SCP-XXXX-1 have already been updated. Extreme care and continuous testing of new SCP-XXXX-1 instances is required to closely monitor the stability of the anomaly. If the conditions for its manifestation can change, as they have now done regarding payment and possible toppings, so can any other aspect of the formula. Keep a close eye on the limits to SCP-XXXXs stability; next thing we know, its effects spread to a coffee machine which will proceed to produce soda only, then oil, and then toxic waste. Point is, be careful from now on. We cannot know what else SCP-XXXX will start affecting. -Dr. A. Ganz.

Experiment Log XXXX-B-010

Date: (██-██-████)
Ordered: Sausage pizza with pineapples and eggplant, no $100 bills.
Delivered: Pepperoni pizza with hot sauce and seven $100 bills, all burnt, crumpled or ripped to the point of being useless.
Notes: SCP-XXXX-1 instances can contain non-food toppings, which manifest as if prepared like regular, edible ingredients.

Experiment Log XXXX-B-011

Date: (██-██-████)
Ordered: No pizza was to be prepared. Instead, SCP-XXXX-2 was to deliver whatever was in a particular pizza box provided by the Foundation.
Delivered: A pizza with tangled hair and nail clippings.
Notes: SCP-XXXX-2 was instructed to open the box before handing it to the researcher at the gate. He was repulsed to see its contents, got very sick, and exclaimed that he hates seeing 'shit like that' in his food, 'more than anything else in the world'. It seems that SCP-XXXX-1 instances are not manifested to go against the order in particular, but rather, to go against what the item 'should have been', given the circumstances.

Experiment log format for future testing:

Experiment Log XXXX-B-###

Date: (##-##-####)
Ordered: (…)
Delivered: (…)
Notes: (…)

Item #: SCP-XXXX

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is to be contained in a standard humanoid containment cell. SCP-XXXX should be provided with a new scratch post every ten days. Any remains of the old post are to be left in the cell.

Description: SCP-XXXX is a humanoid creature with a grey toned skin. It lacks a nose, ears, and hair and has only three fingers and a thumb on each of its hands and three toes on each of its feet. SCP-XXXX is compelled to scratch something at all times. If it is not provided with an object, SCP-XXXX will start scratching itself, producing sounds that are reported to resemble an adult human male whimpering. When completely restrained to the point where it can't hurt itself, SCP-XXXX will start bellowing loudly. SCP-XXXX's physical condition deteriorates when it is unable to scratch an external object or itself and it is theorized SCP-XXXX will die when it goes too long without it.

When SCP-XXXX is given something to scratch, it will not stop doing so until nothing but small shreds of the object are left. When provided with a choice, SCP-XXXX will always choose organic material over inorganic, but the scratching posts it is regularly provided with seem sufficient. SCP-XXXX will not attempt to scratch the walls or floor of its containment cell or any other materials it cannot damage.

When a person (hereon referred to as 'subject',) observes SCP-XXXX for a while, they will start feeling itchy, in most cases on the side, the arm or the neck. Should the subject start scratching the irritated spot, they will find the itch to be insatiable. Life threatening effects have yet to be observed, but affected subjects are to be monitored regularly to make sure they do not damage their skin scratching the irritated area. If necessary, the spot can be permanently covered up, or the subject can be sedated or restrained for however long an available doctor or researcher deems necessary.
The duration of viewing SCP-XXXX needed to be affected by it varies between individuals.

It is currently unknown if these effects also occur if a subject doesn't observe SCP-XXXX directly, but a recording, photograph or any form of documentation of its behavior instead. Any and all personnel having seen or read about SCP-XXXX in any way are to report all persistent itches to a researcher or doctor of the facility.

Footnotes

SCP Sandbox III

Sandbox III: Revenge of the Sandbox