Per 
PSYCHOLOGICAL HEALTH WARNING:
Personnel may find content of this file disturbing. If at any time you feel unwell while reading, please report to the on-site infirmary.
(ALSO 5820 IS A PLACEHOLDER NUMBER JUST TO MAKE IT LOOK GOOD)
Helicopter footage of SCP-5820 traversing the Southern Gobi Desert.
Special Containment Procedures:
Personnel at Site-67 are to perform a daily check on SCP-5820's location in the Gobi Desert. SCP-5820 has agreed not to leave the Containment Zone. Report any deviation from this agreement to Level 4 staff immediately. Do not attempt traditional cell-based containment at any time.
In case of the agreement being neglected, a team of negotiators and heavily armed Mobile Task Force agents are to be sent to persuade SCP-5820 back into a stable environment.
Description:
SCP-5820 is a Class IV reality bender; however, it shows no ill intent, primarily using its abilities for generally positive purposes. These purposes most notably include, but are not limited to: mending of damaged flesh, strengthening of bones, curing of diseases, and preventing the progression of mental disorders.
SCP-5821's reality bending capabilities incorporate the creation of items incapable of existing ordinarily in our universe. Examples being:
- Liquid CO2
- An intelligent toddler built of Greek yogurt1
- A book containing all digits of Pi
SCP-5820 is primarily friendly and docile. The object is notably charismatic, many personnel expressing a fondness2 of the entity.
SCP-5820 has no consistent physical traits. Researchers re-contacting the entity report its appearance changing drastically from any previous meeting. The only constant of SCP-5820's form is that it always presents as a human male.
SCP-5820 often expresses a desire to help subjects "return to nature," actively encouraging nudism, cannibalism, and indulgence in typically socially unacceptable acts. SCP-5820 will become irritated when its requests turned down but remains passive and generally friendly.
Attatched Documents:
Interview Log SCP-5820-1
Interviewed:
SCP-5820
Interviewer:
Dr. Jeremy Granch
Date/Location:
7/13/1968 / Site-92
Foreword:
SCP-5820 was discovered in 1968 near Luoyang, China. Entity agreed to an interview after a friendly discussion about mankind with field agents. SCP-5820 created four sugar-based desserts from nearby sand, gifting them to the recovering agents.3
<Begin Log>
SCP-5820 sits upright as Dr. Granch enters the room, sitting down and shuffling his papers.
Dr. Granch: Alright. Thus begins interview.. <off mic> What was it.. SCP-5820?
SCP-5820: The folks in the room behind you called me that, so yes.
Doctor Granch seems surprised.
Dr. Granch: You can hear them in the observation room?
SCP-5820: Oh, yeah! Quite easily, in fact. (Pause.) Not.. Not a problem with your security, of course! You're doing a good job at keeping this place secure. I can respect that.
Dr. Granch: Well thank you, but how-
SCP-5820: Don't mention it. Anyways, what prompts you to question me?
Dr. Granch: Okay… We are concerned that you could be a danger to huma-
SCP-5820: A danger? Now, that's just rude. I'm all for humanity. Love it like a father.
Dr. Granch: While I don't doubt that, 5820, we are mostly concerned with your reality warping capabilities. And would you please, for the love of god, quit interrup-
SCP-5820: Ah! I see where you're coming from. It does seem like a problem, now that I think of it. The status quo is essentially the opposite of me, after all.
SCP-5820 taps its temple.
SCP-5820: This is a tough one, for sure, but I'll be damned if you lock me in a box.
Dr. Granch: Let's make a compromise, then.
SCP-5820: Oh! It's been.. too long since I've done one of those.
(Pause.)
SCP-5820: Actually, I— Don't think I ever have. Whoops.
Dr. Granch: …Anyways, we found you in the Gobi Desert.
SCP-5820: Mhm.
Dr. Granch: Did you enjoy your time there?
SCP-5820: Oh, for sure! The dunes there are so beautiful, and the people I meet are always pleasant.
Dr. Granch: Wonderful. Now, would you co-operate with being quarantined to that area, and that area only?
(Pause.)
SCP-5820: I guess? It'll be a shame not to experience different cultures, but safety is safety, I suppose.
Dr. Granch: Correct you are. I'm glad we came to a firm conclusion this quickly.
SCP-5820: Likewise!
Dr. Granch: Onto question two.
SCP-5820: Hit me.
Dr. Granch: What's your goal? What are you out to do?
SCP-5820: What's your goal, doctor?
Dr. Granch: To keep humanity safe. Now answer the question.
SCP-5820: Alright, alright… I'm similar to you. I do want to keep this species safe and unharmed, but I also want to release the potential inside of you all. The potential missing for millennia— locked away by the dirty grasp of civilization.
Dr. Granch: What potential are we missing, exactly?
SCP-5820: Doctor. Tell me that you haven't felt held back by the world.
Doctor Granch is silent. SCP-5820 smiles.
SCP-5820: I can tell by the way you carry yourself. Professional man. You've got a family— a daughter. You say that you would do anything for her, but deep down you know you'd sink your teeth into her if push came to shove.
Jeremy Granch throws his papers to the metal table.
Dr. Granch: You're WRONG, 5820. I've never thought of anything like that in my entire life. I've devoted my entire soul into that little girl. I'd…
SCP-5820: You can't fool me, doc. I can see it. When the world ends, your face will be caked with her blood.
SCP-5820 leans over the interview table.
SCP-5820: Poor little Delilah thought her daddy could save her.
Doctor Granch pushes away from the table, his chair hitting the floor with a noisy rattle.
Dr. Granch: DON'T YOU FUCKING SAY HER NAME! DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, I'LL—
<End Log>
Closing Statement:
"GET OFF ME! I'm fine. I'm— I'm fine. I don't need an escort. <sigh> Closing.. whatever. SCP-5820 is.. contained? If it keeps its end of the deal, anyway. Euclid should do for now, being a humanoid— I said get off me! I don't need psychological evaluation. (Pause.) Let this go on record: This SCP is not a saint. Do not treat it as beneficial just because it gave some people ice cream and POSSIBLY cured someone's cancer. The results aren't in yet. This thing is fucking malicious. DON'T give that a second thought."
-Doctor Jeremy Granch
Experiment 5820-A
Subject:
SCP-5820
Researcher:
Dr. Krann
Date/Location:
04/08/1970 / Site-67
Foreword:
SCP-5820 admitted itself to Site-67 for the purpose of allowing the Foundation staff to understand and acclimate themselves to its anomalous abilities.
<Begin Log>
Dr. Krann: Well, 5820, why don't you explain your actions for the record?
SCP-5820: No problem. I came here so the Foundation could test me. That's all. Hey, where did uh…
The entity snaps its fingers, looking to the ceiling.
SCP-5820: The ah… Other doctor go? The one that interviewed me last time.
Dr. Krann: Ah, Doctor Granch? It's… a complicated situation with him. The long and the short of it is: He's disappeared, presumed dead.
SCP-5820: Oh, dear. I'm very sorry. He seemed like a relatively nice man.
SCP-5820 wears a solemn smile.
Dr. Krann: Yeah, he.. really was. Used to babysit my kids.
(Pause.)
Dr. Krann: Ahm- Anyways, 5820, how do you propose we… "test you?"
SCP-5820: Oh, I just assumed I'd show you the abilities I have right here and now. Such as…
Dr. Krann: No, no, no, not here! Not…
The walls of the holding cell begin to pulse, fleshy growths protruding out of the corners. Doctor Krann gasps.
SCP-5820: Reality is like… a Play-Doh for me.
The entity extends its hand, a bloody human fetus appearing.
SCP-5820: I can create, or…
SCP-5820 clamps its teeth down on the fetus's skull, twisting it off and consuming it without chewing. The entity then casts the remainder aside, and it morphs into a beating heart as it hits the ground.
SCP-5820: The other part.
Dr. Krann spins around, vomiting onto his shoes.
Dr. Krann: My- <cough> apologies.. 5820, but.. I have to cut this short. You clearly have abilities much too dangerous for me to be standing in this room with you.
SCP-5820: What? But I've only gotten started! I can do so much more. I can fix this place! I can fix you!
Dr. Krann inserts his keycard into the holding cell's locking mechanism.
Dr. Krann: Do not expect any more direct interaction like this. Goodbye.
Dr. Krann swiftly exits the room, door beeping and sliding shut behind him.
SCP-5820: You don't understand, doctor! You don't understand… I can fix this. You've all been…
SCP-5820 slowly begins to scream its words, flesh bubbling and morphing.
SCP-5820: Your minds have all been.. been… UGH! I TRY, and I TRY to show you the WAY BACK TO NATURE, but you IGNORE ME! You stray away from EVERYTHING you were made to be. You are all hopeless. HOPELESS. DO YOU HEAR ME? LISTEN TO ME! HOPELESS. HOPELESS. HOPELESS. HOPELESS. HOPELESS.
SCP-5820 continues to scream for another twenty-two minutes. Critical power failure occurs across the entire facility, resulting in several containment breaches. A whole-site evacuation is called for, personnel missing or killed counting up to 34.
Closing Statement:
"This thing is much, much more dangerous than any of us could have imagined. ZERO contact with SCP-5820 from here on is allowed. I'm classifying it as risk class Critical. The breach on the eighth should never happen again. We're going to have to revise its file soon. I'm no longer under the impression that it is friendly— and having an angry reality bender typically results in your head being turned into an egg. Get working on it before something worse happens."
-Site Director Miro
VIDEO LOG
DATE: 04/17/1970
NOTE: <SITE 67 SECURITY CAMERA FOO[ERROR] N/A
[BEGIN LOG]
14:37:29: <CAMERA 52> SCP-5820 enters at Gate B.
14:38:21: <CAMERA 54> SCP-5820 passes several staff members in the Eastern Research Wing unnoticed. The object walks directly through several researchers.
14:38:46: <NO SIGNAL>
14:38:59: All personnel collapse, large flora protruding from each orifice. Size varies from seedlings to full-grown redwood trees.
14:39:32: <NO SIGNAL>
14:39:48: <CAMERA 4> Site Director Miro's office camera feed comes online, SCP-5820 staring into it. The sound of the containment breach alarm plays at 10% speed, and red emergency lights flicker on and off. A vaguely humanoid corpse, presumed to be Director Miro, lies on the desk in the room. Their head is wholly smashed, fleshy tendrils squirming out of their open esophagus. Their legs, severed at the knees, secrete a thick red paste. The paste does not seem to have a source, and it fills the room slowly.
14:40:36: SCP-5820 smiles at the camera, pushing its hands into its pockets. Its appearance is notably different from every other encounter; its knees bent backward with horns and branches protruding from its skull.
SCP-5820: You never change, do you? (Pause.) I'm sorry. I tried to save you, but I'm too weak currently. I cure your diseases, fix your wounds, and bring you life, but I see the same hatred and self-loathing everywhere I go. I didn't want to frighten any of you with my solution to all of this, but now I see that I have no choice. I'll be… going now. Things will change— You will change. It will be a sudden one, but you'll soon forget what this disgusting life was like. You'll be happy again. No more petty worries and quarrels, just instinct and joy. Goodbye.
14:50:10: <ON-SITE NUCLEAR WARHEAD DETONATED> <NO SIGNAL>
[END LOG]
Special Containment Procedures:
A message4 is to be sent out once per day on any widespread platform available (ie. email, text message, social media).
The following is a message composed via consensus of the O5 Council.
For those who are not currently aware of our existence, we represent the organization known as the SCP Foundation. Our mission centers around the containment and study of anomalous objects, entities and other assorted phenomena. Our secondary mission is to keep knowledge of the paranormal out of the public eye. This has been our mission for over 100 years.
Both missions have now failed.
An anomalous entity, known internally as SCP-5820, has breached containment, and is now re-structuring life as you know it. Do not trust your loved ones and family. Stay inside, and do not open your doors for anybody, no matter how much they plead.
Do not fear, as the SCP Foundation has a solution and is actively deploying it. Your crimes during this period will not remain unpunished.
This message will repeat daily.
SCP-5820 has no known means of being contained. Attempt to not exit your shelter for as long as possible. If you come into contact with SCP-5820, use any means necessary to insure the protection of you and your family's humanity— run, hide, or die.
Artistic depiction of SCP-5820 Source unknown.
Description:
SCP-5820 is a Class V reality bender. Any desires SCP-5820 holds can become a reality at its will. The entity is highly violent and hostile. It converts individuals anywhere on the globe into followers (SCP-5820-1) of it at random, having zero notable convention. The exception, however, is that the majority of subjects coming into view of SCP-5820 will be either completely destroyed to the molecular level, or converted into an instance of SCP-5820-1.
SCP-5820-1 entities show high levels of restlessness, primarily seeking to cannibalize or engage in intercourse with both unafflicted individuals and other instances of 5820-1. Restrained entities will attempt suicide via autocannibalism.
Approximately 5 billion of the Earth's population have been converted into instances of SCP-5820-1. 98% of Foundation efforts are currently directed towards the containment of SCP-5820, as over half of all staff are now either deceased or inhuman.
SCP-5820 appears to reside in Manhattan. The city is exceptionally overgrown, flora and fauna growing twelve times the average rate. The Empire State building is notable, as readings show a significant presence of SCP-5820 entities inside. It remains unknown whether these entities migrated
No recordings or photographs of the entity currently exist, as getting a clear enough view to take said recording would likely result in becoming an instance of SCP-5820-1. An artistic depiction exists, however, and will be attached to the document.
Exploration Video Log Transcript
Date:
12/08/1972
Exploration Team:
MTF Nu-3 ("The Remainder")
Subject:
SCP-5820, New York City
Team Lead:
Jake Harris ("Alpha")
Team Members:
Charlie Lewis ("Beta"), Alex Yu ("Charlie"), Sabrina Clark ("Delta")
Foreword:
MTF Nu-3 is a newly formed Mobile Task Force comprising of members of MTF-Alpha-1, MTF Lambada-5, MTF Zeta-9, and MTF Pi-1. This task force was created for the reason of lacking population in other task forces. Approximately 68% of agents have fallen to SCP-5820.
The mission is to bring down the former Empire State building with remote explosives.
<Begin Log>
All members of MTF Nu-3 sit quietly in the transport to Manhattan. No dialogue occurs for 32 minutes until TL-Alpha calls for an equipment check.
Alpha: Primary, check.
Delta: Primary, check.
Beta: Primary, check!
Charlie: Primary loaded. Check.
All squad members carry a standard-issue Heckler & Koch HK11 assault rifle with a 20-round box magazine.
Alpha: Equipment, check. Two M67 fragmentation grenades.
Charlie: IFAK Medical kit, check.
Delta: Remote explosives, check.
Beta: Deployable drone, check. Let's hope thing works.
MTF Nu-3 all chuckle.
Alpha: Don't get your hopes up. The Foundation is smart, but that thing isn't even wired. Ever seen a phone without a cord?
Delta: Actually, yeah. My brother took a scissors to the phone cord after my mom grounded him.
Beta: <laughs> Holy shit, is your brother still alive? My mom would have killed me right there and then.
The transport van stops at the entrance of the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel; 2.7km out from destination.
Alpha: Alright, enough of the chit-chat. We've got a job to do.
Beta: Yes, sir.
Alpha: While I appreciate the formal attitude, can it. We've got a twenty-minute jog ahead of us into a highly hostile and anomalous environment. We get in, bring down the building, and get out.
Beta, Charlie, and Delta: Affirmative.
Alpha: Check torches.
All members of the Task Force turn on their helmet-mounted flashlights.
Beta: Check!
Delta: Check.
Charlie: Check.
Alpha: Check. Let's move.
Level of visibility.
MTF Nu-3 exits the transport, beginning the journey towards the destination. The lights of the tunnel are non-functional. A cloud of light smoke fills the area, making the flashlights less effective. No dialogue passes for 10 minutes.
Alpha: One klick out. Weapons hot. Charlie, you're most familiar with Manhattan, take the lead.
Beta: What? I've never been to New York in my-
Charlie places his hand on Beta's shoulder.
Charlie: Callsigns, buddy. Not your name.
Beta: Wait— Shit. (Pause.) Whose idea was it to give the callsign "Beta" to the guy named Charlie?
Charlie leads the squad, trailing being Alpha, Beta, and Delta, respectively. The team stays silent until 1.2km out from the city, where a single civilian stands silhouetted in the center of the road facing away from MTF Nu-3. Charlie holds up his fist, stopping and raising his gun along with the rest of the squad.
Charlie: <whispering> What's the go, Alpha?
Alpha: Don't take any chances. Dispatch the target.
Like clockwork, the civilian turns around, now confirmed to be an instance of SCP-5820-1 from the lack of eyes and lower mandible. The entity takes one step towards the team before Charlie fires a single bullet into its skull.
Charlie: Hostile down. Hold.
Charlie takes a knee, signaling for a wedge formation. MTF Nu-3 fall into position, weapons raised. Three seconds pass before a roar is heard in the distance, shaking the ground and causing the ceiling of the tunnel to crack.
Alpha: Hold position.
The squad shifts uncomfortably. Charlie lifts a hand to his ear to signal for the team to listen. A rumbling, quiet sound echoes through the tunnel.
Delta: Is that..?
Beta: Shit! Those are footsteps— GET TO COVER!
All four scramble behind separate cars and stone barriers.
Charlie: Fire on sight, Alpha?
Alpha: Affirmative.
The rumbling sound continues for 26 seconds.
Beta: Uh, TL? That shit's not getting any closer.
(Pause.)
Alpha: You're right.
(Pause.)
Team Leader Alpha leaves cover, motioning for a column formation.
Alpha: Stay frosty. Guns raised.
Nu-3 walk another half kilometer; the tunnel blocked by an overturned semi-truck. All members appear uneasy.
Delta: Jesus. It sounds like it's right over this thing.
Alpha: Beta, boost me up. I'm taking a look.
Beta: Are you sure that's a good idea? It sounds like there are hundreds of people behind there.
Alpha: Listen for a moment.
(Pause.)
Beta: Okay..? What?
Alpha: Just footsteps. If they were hostile, don't you think they would be smashing on the semi? Or worse, trying to climb over?
(Pause.)
Charlie: TL's right. Don't question a member of Alpha-1. Come on; I'll boost you up.
Charlie places his hands together, Alpha stepping on them and being lifted to the top. The clearance from the top of the semi to the ceiling is approximately 1m. The rumbling noise ceases as Alpha crawls forwards.
Alpha: You've all got to get up here.
Beta: What? What is it?
Alpha: Vision obscured from the smoke, but… no. You have to see this. I can't explain.
Alpha drops onto the other side, soon followed by the remainder of the Task Force.
A large number of civilians, estimated around 400, are suspended in the air. Several of them lack major body parts, namely intestines, heads, legs, arms, and skin.
Beta: Holy.. fucking shit.
Delta: My thoughts.. exactly. There's.. one.. two.. three.. fuck, there's gotta be thousands here. I can't even see twenty meters down this thing with all the smoke.
Charlie: There are hundreds of thousands more people in this city.
Beta: I grew up in Wyoming. I haven't even seen this many people in one area my whole life.
Alpha: Stay calm. Entities are not hostile.
Alpha lowers his weapon, the rest of his squad quickly following.
Delta: He's.. right. I saw a lot of this shit in the White Rabbits, but.. Never this much.
Beta: Can't say the same. But hey, I have seen some weird caves and buildings!
Alpha: Shut up. We have a job to do. Half a klick to go before the hard part starts. Let's-
<NO SIGNAL/ERR>
<NO SIGNAL/ERR>
Beta's video feed returns, having reached the end of the tunnel. He fires twenty-one rounds down the pitch-black road.
Beta: FUCK! FUCK! GET BACK!
Beta reloads, turning and sprinting the opposite direction. Charlie holds an unresponsive Delta over his shoulder, pushing forwards into a densely overgrown street. Alpha follows closely behind; gun raised towards the tunnel.
Alpha: Beta, get your fucking ass into gear!
New York 1972.
Nu-3 runs for another 10 minutes, firing at unseen foes before collapsing behind an overgrown taxi.
Beta: Holy— <wheeze> FUCK!
Charlie lays Delta down. Her eyes, fingers, and scalp are absent. The remaining three members are silent for 42 seconds.
Alpha: Charlie. You were the closest to her when it happened. Did you see what caused this?
(Pause.)
Charlie: No, sir. One second she was shooting, and the next she was on my shoulder. I don't remember even picking her up.
Beta: ..fuck.
Another distant roar is audible, the ground trembling violently. Beta looks Westward towards the nearly setting sun. His camera catches a glimpse of a towering humanoid figure disappearing behind a building. This figure is assumed to be SCP-5820. Beta himself does not notice.
Beta: I guess.. I'll take the explosives, then. That all right with you, TL?
Alpha: Affirmative. Try not to lose a leg.
Beta: I can't make any promises.
<NO SIGNAL/ERR>
<NO SIGNAL/ERR>
<NO SIGNAL/ERR>
Beta's camera regains a signal. A large mass of writing bodies lie in the middle of a street. They appear to be simultaneously having intercourse and consuming each other. Their raw flesh morphs together, creating a 4m high sludge.
Charlie: That's.. fucked up.
Beta: What the fuck.. should we… kill them?
Alpha: No. There's no point wasting munitions on something we can go around.
Charlie: I don't see a way around this.
Alpha: Just follow.
Alpha presses his back to a building, shimmying down the narrow gap on the sidewalk which is unobstructed.
Beta: Oh, fuck that! Are you kidding? How do we know these things won't reach out and grab me?
Alpha: We have no other way around, Beta. We checked.
Beta: There's got to be another way, right? I mean, we can go over-
Alpha: Follow my orders, or I'll have to file for disciplinary action.
(Pause.)
Beta: Yes-Yessir!
Beta shakily shuffles along the sidewalk. His camera nears the large SCP-5820-1 combined entity; the long and disfigured bodies shifting violently as he passes. Alpha grabs his arm and pulls him through.
Alpha: Go on, Charlie. I've got you.
Alpha reaches his hand through the gap.
Charlie: You've got me?
Alpha: I promise. I've got you. Nothing will happen to you.
Charlie slides half way through the gap before stopping.
Beta: What the fuck are you doing? Come on, man!
Charlie looks directly into the mass of flesh.
Charlie: I.. can't. I can't. I can't. I'm sorry. I can't.
Alpha: Yes, you can. Take my-
Charlie plunges himself head first into the pile, using the wall behind him to push himself deeper with his feet.
Beta: OH WHAT THE-
Beta squeezes into the gap, grabbing Charlie by the feet. He yells incoherently over Alpha's commands.
Alpha: BETA, STAND BACK! You don't know if it'll take you with-
Charlie completely disappears into the mass of flesh and bodies, Beta's hands being brought in with him. Alpha grabs his shoulders, pulling him angrily from the pile.
Beta: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? I HAD HIM!
Alpha: HE IS GONE, BETA. GONE. Did you see the look in his eyes? That wasn't Charlie anymore.
Beta: We still could have saved him.
Alpha: Not against a reality bender.
Beta: YOU DON'T KNOW TH-
<NO SIGNAL/ERR>
<NO SIGNAL/ERR»ERR/ <> ERROR ERROR ER>
Beta enters the objective building. He sits down on a rotten bench, dismounting his camera and aiming it towards himself. His equipment is covered in dark red stains.
Beta: I'm the last one.
(Pause.)
Beta: Heh. Who would have thought. My guess would have been Charlie to last longest. Maybe Alpha? No no, he's too… ballsy. (Pause.) Oh! Fuck, sorry. I'm supposed to be documenting this mission's progress. Uh.. there is.. little progress. Everyone else is.. dead? Worse? I don't know what happened with Charlie or Delta. Alpha, I…
(Prolonged pause.)
Beta: I'm in the Empire State building. No 5820-1 instances in sight. I'm going to place explosives all over the bottom floor and just hope the fucker topples. If.. it'll even let me do that. (Pause.) What even is "it?" SCP-5820, that is. Surely something that influential knows I'm here, right? Why is it letting this happen? (Pause.) I don't think this mission was our idea. Think about it. The Foundation sends four ill-equipped agents into the den of a reality bender.
This whole situation isn't right.
I'm going to go complete the mission now. For anyone listening— or reading this… I'm going to turn off the camera. I don't want to risk any infohazardous… whatever. Not like it matters anyways.
If I don't turn this thing back on…
Tell my sister I love her. And I'm sorry. No matter how cliche that is, heh.. I miss her. I… <sigh>
Bye, sis.
<End Log>
- [RECOVERED LOG]
BY ORDER OF THE OVERSEER COUNCIL
The following file is Level 4/5820 classified. Unauthorized access is forbidden.
Please enter correct login credentials.
Video Log
<Begin Log>
The camera is unfocused, the only discernible features being legs sprinting and the road underneath. Heavy female breathing, thundering footsteps, and light whimpering fill the audio channel. Faint footsteps are present far behind the camera's operator.
These footsteps seem to get closer as time goes on before the operator bursts through a rusty metal door and slams it behind her. The camera is dropped to the ground, lens facing towards the door. She grunts as she pushes a cabinet in front of the door. The loud screeching of wood on the concrete floor almost drowns out the violent bashing on the door and screeching outside.
She pushes her full weight into the cabinet as the door opens slightly. Agonized and hungry screams bleed in through the entrance, and a bloody, raw hand slips in through the crack in the door. The woman screams loudly of exertion, pushing as hard as she can until she hears the crunch of bones from the intruder's fingers. It doesn't stop, still attempting to push its way through along with several other entities right behind it. She changes her footing, pushing once more until the fingers of the beast are severed roughly.
Before the door has a chance to open again, she reaches around the cabinet, locking it. Her legs almost collapse under her as she slides down the cabinet, her face now coming into view. She sits there for several minutes before the commotion outside subsides. She cracks a crooked smile, laughing to herself and sliding the camera over to her with her foot and raising it to face her. Her smile falls, a more serious expression plaguing her face. Her chapped lips quiver slightly, brow furrowing.
Operator: Good to see you, Cammie. Glad we made it out of that alive.
The camcorder tilts up and down as if it were nodding.
Operator: Ah, Cammie. Agreeable as always. Agreeable as.. always…
The woman pulls her legs up to her chest, resting her arms on her knees to hold up the camera. She stares blankly at the floor for twenty minutes, unmoving. Her left hand falls from the camcorder, digging into her front pocket to pull out a taped-up picture.
She stares at it for a long while before crushing it in her fist and throwing it across the room. Rage fills her eyes as she clenches her jaw and tenses her muscles. She begins to well up after multiple seconds of staring into the lens.
Operator: I.. I'm sorry you have to see me like this, Cam. I just…
The operator wipes tears from her dirt-caked face, nose twitching.
Operator: No, no. You're.. right, Cammie. I've got to have hope. Hope's all that keeps us together. (Pause.) Well, aren't you going to ask me what I did today?
She stands up, setting the camera down on a table.
Operator: Typical. Never too chatty, huh?
She pulls off her ragged bomber jacket, throwing it to the ground and letting down her hair. The white tank-top underneath would barely pass for white, as the several layers of grease and sweat staining it shift the hue closer to yellow. She turns towards the camera.
Operator: I guess I'll just tell you, then. I was… out. I usually never go out after He arrived, but this time it was important. (Pause.) Hey, don't say that, Cammie. That's hurtful. Anyways, I met up with some people! Yeah, real people! I didn't think there were even any left until the radio message yesterday. No, Cam, they weren't Foundation. Never in a million years would I have thought to team up with the Insurgency and the Church, but here we are. I met a good ten to twenty people.
She crouches down, getting closer to the camera.
Operator: Ten. To. Twenty. I've never felt more sane in my life. Seriously. Cammie, you're great and all, but you don't make good conversation. They— or I guess… we make up a sort of… resistance? There was even an O5 there! We worked for hours on this file. I learned more today than I have my whole damn life.
She lifts her backpack from the ground, pulling out a few papers and a water bottle with a viscous red fluid inside. The bottle raises, and she downs over half of it. Her whole body shudders, a wide smile crawling across her face.
Operator: Well… it doesn't matter anyway. You can't kill a god.
Her head twitches, eyes rolling back slightly. She takes another sip of the red fluid.
Operator: Why do I still do it, Cam? While.. yeah, there's other people like us who are fighting this thing, but…
She slowly begins to laugh while speaking, dirty tears rolling down her cheeks and dripping off the tip of her nose.
Operator: I'm barely even human anymore, Cam. Hell, my main source of food is from the creatures outside. What makes me different from them, huh? I eat the same flesh and… drink the same blood.
She starts to claw at her face with long, un-clipped nails, blood slowly seeping from the unsealed skin.
Operator: Is this even my flesh under here anymore? I can't.. FUCKING TAKE IT, Cammie! I need.. I'm…
She closes her eyes, screaming at the top of her lungs before sinking her teeth into her forearm. She violently rips out a stringy chunk of flesh.
Operator: Hahaha… AHAHAHAHAHAHA! THIS FEELING IS BLISS!
Her dirty nails dig into the large chunk of missing flesh in her arm, tearing out more flesh while undressing to the point of nudity. She spreads the large amount of blood erupting from her torn flesh onto her exposed skin.
Operator: HE WAS RIGHT! AHAHAHA! HE LOVES US. CAMMIE, HE LOVES US! I will join him. This is… EUPHORIA!
The woman collapses below the camera's view, moist tearing noises and groaning heard for the next twenty minutes before all signs of movement cease. The camera loses battery power twelve hours later with no change in environment.
Adversus Carnes Directory
Prototype logo.
Bring back the fight. Keep hope alive.
Historical depiction of Sichern-Axul
File:
Sichern-Axul "The God of Flesh"
Containment Level:
Unmöglich-00
Danger:
Naliken
Directive:
Advesus Carnes's primary objective is to eliminate the threat of Sichern-Axul. All followers and worshipers of Sichern-Axul should be terminated using any means necessary. Once this directive is completed, the use of the mega-structure under Yellowstone National Park to re-populate and set back the timeline of Earth is advised.
Any unnecessary consumption of human flesh is to be reported to one of the Harbingers directly, O5-9, Karla of The Church, or Bluebird of the Insurgency.
Detail:
Sichern-Axul is the primary rival of Adversus Carnes. Sichern-Axul is the god of flesh and instinct, its primary directive being to bring the world to a pleasure-driven mindset. It goes under several aliases, the most notable of these being "Yaldabaoth."
It currently has a corporeal form, but does not require it. While in its corporeal form, Sichern-Axul poses a direct threat to any human being via reality bending and cognitohazardous threats. These threats include the desire to consume human flesh, participate in large orgies, and self-mutilate.
Sichern-Axul affects the population randomly, taking enjoyment in the suffering of the remaining human population that is unaffected. Once its corporeal form is destroyed, healing of society may begin. The god will not die, but will be forced to watch our society from afar.
Fight your instincts. Bring back logic.
