Seven-Hundred and Eleven 7-Elevens

"Recovered screenshot from internal surveillance footage within SCP-XXXX, captured during an exploratory mission."

Item #: SCP-XXX

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: Due to the unpredictable and sporadic manifestations of SCP-XXX, traditional containment methods are not viable. Remote surveillance systems at USNVBR-Site-56 continuously monitor flagged locations for signs of SCP-XXX activity. Any civilians approaching SCP-XXX are to be intercepted by Foundation agents, administered Class-A amnestics, and relocated to prevent exposure.

Authorized expedition teams must initiate Protocol PELT (Personnel Extraction and Limited Tethering) in the event of failed egress. Interaction with SCP-XXX-B and SCP-XXX-C instances is restricted, except during approved extraction attempts. Extracted instances of SCP-XXX-C are to be contained within standard humanoid containment cells and subjected to immediate interrogation. Post-interview termination of SCP-XXX-C instances is mandatory to prevent reabsorption into SCP-XXX, and to reduce its total population.

Any contact with, or information pertaining to [REDACTED], must be reported immediately to Dr. Buckley for review.

Due to significant personnel losses and repeated extraction failures, all expeditions into SCP-XXX are suspended until further notice (refer to Incident Logs for details).

Testing remains unfeasible, as no new entryways into SCP-XXX have been observed since Incident [DATA EXPUNGED].

Description: SCP-XXX is an anomalous stretch of road that manifests sporadically along isolated highways in Nevada. The anomaly contains seven hundred and eleven (711) instances of a 7-Eleven convenience store, designated SCP-XXX-A. Each SCP-XXX-A is spaced precisely 7.11 kilometers apart. While their exteriors are indistinguishable from standard 7-Eleven stores, their interiors vary significantly, ranging from mundane, fully functional stores to profoundly anomalous and hostile environments.

Further investigation reveals that the anomalous roadway terminates at SCP-XXX-711, beyond which only an expanse of barren desert has been observed. Attempts to traverse this desert have been unsuccessful, as the space exhibits non-Euclidean properties and is currently considered to be infinite.

All extraction attempts from SCP-XXX have thus far remained impermanent.

Inhabitants:

SCP-XXX-B: Refers to entities resembling humanoid staff members that populate each SCP-XXX-A instance. Standing approximately 8 feet tall, there is one SCP-XXX-B in every store observed so far. Skinless, with elongated limbs and smooth, featureless faces. Despite their unsettling appearance, SCP-XXX-B instances behave as if they are employees of SCP-XXX-A, addressing personnel as “customers” and providing limited assistance. The entities wear ill-fitting 7-Eleven uniforms, most often with blank name tags, and exhibit extreme physical aggression when forcibly removed from their respective stores but are otherwise cooperative.

SCP-XXX-B entities do not appear to recognize the anomalous nature of SCP-XXX.

SCP-XXX-C: Designates individuals who have become permanently trapped within SCP-XXX. These individuals cluster in “safe zones” within SCP-XXX-A instances that consistently provide food, water, and other resources. SCP-XXX-C instances exhibit heightened caution and frequently reference “deadly stores,” which pose severe risks, including spatial distortions, resource scarcity, and predatory items or entities.

Efforts to extract SCP-XXX-C instances from the anomaly have proven largely futile. Individuals removed from SCP-XXX invariably experience catastrophic physiological failure within 72 hours, characterized by sudden and violent internal collapse, colloquially referred to as “implosion.” Remarkably, the process leaves no biological residue.

It is hypothesized that SCP-XXX reabsorbs its former inhabitants. This theory is supported by the auditory manifestation of a loud “DING,” resembling the chime of a 7-Eleven convenience store door, which resonates site-wide at the precise moment of implosion. This effect is not limited to SCP-XXX-C instances; personnel involved in extraction attempts are also vulnerable. As of the time of this report, all twenty-eight personnel that have entered SCP-XXX are either MIA or KIA. Ongoing research aims to uncover the mechanisms behind this phenomenon and prevent further losses.

Extraction Protocol: Extraction efforts involve synchronized entry and exit via designated SCP-XXX-A instances. Class-D personnel are equipped with experimental tethering devices designed to disrupt SCP-XXX’s spatial field temporarily, creating a 431 second “window” for egress.

SCP-XXX-C instances frequently resist extraction, citing distrust of Foundation personnel or expressing fears of [REDACTED].

Preventing further entrapment within SCP-XXX remains the Foundation’s foremost priority.

THE FOLLOWING LOGS CONTAIN CLASSIFIED INFORMATION PERTAINING TO SCP-XXX. UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS WILL RESULT IN DISCIPLINARY ACTION.

SCP-XXX Incident Log Delta-08

Document Title: SCP-XXX Incident Log Delta-08
Date: ██/██/20██

Note: D-08 was tasked with exploring SCP-XXX and documenting the interiors of SCP-XXX-A instances, beginning with SCP-XXX-A-099. The subject was instructed to avoid SCP-XXX-C instances unless actively engaged.

D-08 was deliberately misinformed that Protocol PELT would ensure their safe extraction from SCP-XXX. The following is the audio transcription of their exploration.

[BEGIN LOG]

—-

00:00 - 00:30
[Static crackles, then stabilizes.]

D-08: “Mic check. One, two. Yeah, working. Okay. I’m outside the first store. Uh… it’s weird out here. It’s pitch black, even though it was, like, two in the afternoon when I went in. No cars, no wind.”

—-

00:31 - 02:56
[Sound of boots crunching gravel. The faint ding of the store’s doorbell is heard as D-08 enters. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead.]

D-08: “Looks normal so far. Shelves, lights, everything’s where you’d expect it.”

[Footsteps shuffle. Products clink faintly.]

D-08: “Wait. This milk. No way… it says it expired in 1872? Huh. Weird. I kinda wanna drink it. Is that bad?”

[Sound of foil seal being peeled off a milk bottle. D-08 inhales through the nose.]

D-08: “Smells fresh. Won’t risk it though.”

[Products clink.]

—-

02:57 - 04:01
[Footsteps approach the counter. SCP-XXX-B instance shifts slightly, the sound of cloth against wood faintly audible.]

D-08: “Er… Hello?”

SCP-XXX-B: [Spoken in a cheerful, youthful male voice.] “Good evening! How may I assist you today?”

[Brief pause.]

D-08: “Oh wow. Uh… where’s your mouth, man? How are you speaking right now?”

[Another pause. SCP-XXX-B remains motionless.]

SCP-XXX-B: “I do not understand. How may I help you today?”

D-08: [Awkward laugh.] “Okay, uh… [D-08 pauses.] What do I call you? Your name tag’s blank.”

[Long silence.]

D-08: “Right. Do you have any food that’s, like… in date?”

SCP-XXX-B: “Everything is fresh today! How else may I help you?”

D-08: “I’m good. Thanks, dude.”

—-

04:02 - 04:39
[Footsteps retreat. The door dings faintly as D-08 exits. Gravel crunches underfoot. The environment is completely silent aside from his movements.]

—-

04:40 – 91:02
[The audio consists of steady footsteps as D-08 walks 7.11 km to the next store. Occasionally, he mutters to himself, his voice growing hoarse.]

D-08: [Muttering.] “What the hell is this place, man? Just walking and walking. Feels like I’m on a treadmill. Still no cars. Still no sound.”

—-

91:03 - 115:32
[The faint ding of another doorbell is heard as D-08 enters a second store. Voices murmur in the background.]

D-08: “Huh. This one’s got… people?”

Male Voice: “Hey. You need help?”

[D-08 does not engage as instructed.]

Female Voice: [Hushed.] “Don’t. Just leave it.”

[Pause. D-08 remains mostly silent as he attempts to disengage.]

Male Voice: “Wait! Hang on. How long have you been stuck here?”

[Short pause.]

D-08: [Hesitant, before calling out.] “I’m…I’m not sure.”

[A chair scrapes faintly. The voices grow closer.]

Male Voice: “You should stay. Seriously. You don’t know how many stores you’ll pass before you find a good one. We’ve got food. Mac and cheese. Apple juice.”

D-08: “I’m fine.”

Female Voice: “Come on. It’s alright.”

[Shuffling sounds. A hand claps D-08’s shoulder. Muffled whispers grow louder.]

Male Voice: “The toilet. Over there. It’s the only place it doesn’t go.”

D-08: “What?”

[Footsteps approach hesitantly. The door creaks open. Voices—low, overlapping, and unintelligible—murmur faintly inside. The sound reverberates slightly, suggesting a larger space than expected.]

D-08: “Jesus, how many of you are in here?”

Female Voice: “It’s safer in there. It never comes in. Just… don’t make too much noise.”

[The murmurs silence as D-08 steps further in. After a few moment, a faint, rhythmic humming becomes audible in the distance.]

D-08: “What’s that sound?”

Female Voice: [Stepping inside, closing the door.] “The sewing machine.”

D-08: “What?”

Male Voice: “That thing out there. It sews, we think. Every time we come out, the machine is off. Never any fabric or clothing in sight. No idea what it’s doing. But it doesn’t like doing it with an audience.”

Different Male Voice: [Frustrated.] “We know damn well what it’s doing, Dale. Its making [REDACTED]!”

[The room erupts with quiet shushes and frightened gasps.]

D-08: [Incredulously.] “[REDACTED]?”

Female Voice: [Hurriedly.] “It doesn’t matter, it’s just a stupid story.”

Male voice: Look, you can stay here. The food always restocks whenever you’re not looking. Nothing bad has happened since we started living in the cubicles.”

[Short pause.]

D-08: “Thanks, but I-uh, I’m looking for my friend, he got lost further along. Thanks for the food. I’m going to keep moving.”

Male Voice: “Good luck out there.”

—-

115:33 - 201:54
[Footsteps resume. D-08’s pace is slower now, deliberate. Occasionally, he mutters to himself or sighs heavily.]

D-08: [Muttering.] “The moon hasn’t moved. Still the same damn spot.”

—-

201:55 - 203:48
[D-08 enters a third store. The ding is distorted, deeper and warped. Inside is dimly lit, and footsteps echo unnaturally.]

D-08: “This place… it doesn’t look open.”

[A faint rustling sound begins in the background, like dry leaves brushing against one another.]

D-08: “Hello?”

[D-08 rummages though his bag, flicking on a flashlight. He gasps sharply.]

D-08: “What the hell?”

[An SCP-XXX-B instance stands in front of D-08.]

D-08: “Hey, uh… [Pauses, reading the name tag.] Anita? How you doing, girl?”

SCP-XXX-B: [Spoken in a pleasant, middle-aged woman’s voice.] “Good evening! We have an excellent deal on haircare products today—buy one, get one free! How may I assist you?”

D-08: “I’m just browsing, thanks Anita.”

[Rustling sound begins again, louder and coming from all angles.]

D-08: [Voice cracking.] “What is that? There’s something else in here."

[The rustling intensifies, sharp and rhythmic. D-08 pauses.]

D-08: “Black and white. They’re… all black and white. They look like… wigs?

[The rustling becomes heavier and faster, now wet and organic in texture. D-08 stumbles backward.]

D-08: “Nope. Nope. Fuck this. I’m out.”

[There’s a pause as D-08 rummages in his bag, zippers rasping hurriedly.]

D-08: “Shit! This thing better get me the fuck outta here.”

[D-08 begins to hyperventilate. The sound of a zipper being frantically tugged can be heard, stuck halfway. The rustling grows louder.]

D-08: “Oh, fuck, man. These things have—these things have scalps! NO! Stay back!”

[The rustling crescendos, overwhelming. D-08’s breathing turns frantic.]

D-08: “HELP! OH FUCK! THEY’VE GOT MY LEGS—MY BAG! NO, I NEED TO GET OUT! HELP ME!”

SCP-XXX-B: [Cheerfully.] “Of course! How may I help you today? We have an excellent deal on haircare products!”

D-08: “NO! Get me out!”

SCP-XXX-B: “Buy one get one free!”

[Audio is drowned by choking noises, the rustling of hair, and muffled screams.]

SCP-XXX-B: “Your total is due. Shall I ring you up?”

[The audio cuts abruptly.]

—-

[END LOG]

-Class-D Personnel MIA

SCP-XXX Incident Log Beta-04

Document Title: SCP-XXX Incident Log Beta-04
Date: ██/██/20██

Task Force: Mobile Task Force Mu-7
Objective: Extraction and containment of an SCP-XXX-B instance

Summary:
Incident SCP-XXX-Beta-4 details the attempted extraction of an SCP-XXX-B instance living inside SCP-XXX-A-378. Agents were deliberately misinformed that Protocol PELT would ensure their safe extraction from SCP-XXX. The following is a reconstruction compiled from the live body cam feeds of Agents Langley, Pierce, and Kim.

—-

[BEGIN LOG]

—-

21:13:47 - 26:31:30
[Body cam footage initiates as Agents Langley, Pierce, and Kim walk towards SCP-XXX-A-378. The moon is high in the sky, without the stores light it’d be impossible to make out the long stretching road they walk on.]

Agent Pierce: “Its kinda beautiful here. In a weird kind of way.”

Agent Langley: [Chuckles] “Shut up, Pierce. It’s creepy as hell.”

[The agents step into SCP-XXX-A-378. The door chimes upon entry, revealing the store’s surreal layout: aisles are arranged haphazardly, with shelves stocked with glass vials filled with swirling blue liquid. Near the back wall, mannequins in witches’ hats stand in a semicircle, posed as if mid-conversation. SCP-XXX-B-378 is stationed behind the counter, facing forward with a featureless face.]

Agent Pierce: [Quietly.] “What was it Buckley said? He wanted us to ask it about [REDACTED] before we initiate extraction?"

Agent Kim: “Ugh. Yup. Let’s get on with it.”

—-

21:16:31 - 21:17:59
[The agents approach the counter. Langley’s cam captures SCP-XXX-B-378 in detail: a tall, hunched figure. Skinless and moist with exposed, gray muscles. Its elongated limbs resting on the counter, and an unnervingly smooth face devoid of features.]

[Each Agent appears to hesitate.]

Agent Langley: “Hey, uh? Can I speak to [REDACTED] please?”

[Short pause as SCP-XXX-B-378 slowly rights it's posture.]

SCP-XXX-B-378: [voice of an elderly man, emanating without a visible source.] “Apologies, [REDACTED] isn’t available today. How might I assist you?”

Agent Pierce: [Sighs] “Right. That’s enough of that. Lets do what we were assigned to do, shall we?”

Agent Kim: [clears throat] “Excuse me. We need to conduct a, uh… service inspection of your store facilities. Could you please come with us?”

[SCP-XXX-B-378 tilts its head slightly but remains silent.]

Agent Langley: “Sir, we really need your cooperation. Just a few steps outside for a routine check-up. How about it?”

SCP-XXX-B-378: “I apologize. I am unable to leave the store during work hours. However, I am happy to assist you with any inquiries. How may I help?”

[Langley’s cam rocks about and captures glances of impatience among the agents.]

Agent Pierce: “All right, guess we’re doing this the hard way.”

—-

21:18:00 - 21:19:03
[Langley and Pierce activate their tasers. Sparks flash as they make contact with SCP-XXX-B-378’s torso, yet the entity remains motionless and unresponsive. Kim’s cam shows him loading a tranquilizer dart and firing at SCP-XXX-B-378’s arm, again to no effect.]

Agent Kim: “Tasers and tranqs are a no-go. It’s like it doesn’t have a nervous system…”

Agent Pierce: “New plan. Let’s try some manual encouragement.”

—-

21:19:04 - 21:20:48
[Footage from Langley’s and Pierce’s cams shows the agents moving behind the counter, pushing SCP-XXX-B-378 toward the exit. The entity does not resist but makes no effort to walk, requiring sustained force to move it.]

Agent Langley: [strained] “This is ridiculous." [Exhales] "Just a little more… nearly there…”

[The door chimes as SCP-XXX-B-378’s feet cross the threshold, shuffling heavily onto the pavement outside.]

—-

21:40:49- 21:42:56
[Langley’s cam captures SCP-XXX-B-378’s abrupt shift. It tilts its head sharply, releasing a distorted shriek.]

[The cam feed blurs as SCP-XXX-B-378 seizes Langley, hurling him into Pierce. Both agents crash onto the pavement, bruised but otherwise unharmed.]

Agent Kim: [panicked] “Stand down! Don’t engage!”

[SCP-XXX-B-378 stands motionless for seven seconds before lumbering slowly back into the store. A faint ding is heard as the door closes.]

Agent Langley: [getting to his feet, heavily winded.] “Fuck me. That thing is strong.”

Agent Kim: “Yep. Looks like extraction is a no-go. Fuck. What else did Buckley say? About a contingency?”

Agent Pierce: [still on the ground.] “Yeah… the sewing machine. It was on the counter.”

—-

21:42:57 - 21:44:23
[Agents Kim, Langley, and Pierce take a moment to compose themselves before re-entering SCP-XXX-A-378. SCP-XXX-B-378 is back behind the counter with no sign of hostility, a vintage sewing machine in place of it's cash register. The agents exchange a brief glance before Kim grabs his baton and swings it high, smashing down on the machine hard.]

[The sound of impact, then a distinct sound of metal breaking apart.]

SCP-XXX-B-378: [unintelligible brassy screeching.]

[Kim’s cam skids across the ground as he’s struck by sharp claws attached to inhumanly long arms. The attack is so wide it also strikes Langley. The entity is a blur as it leaps across the desk with rabid intensity, repeatedly slamming its palms down on Kim’s prone body, leaving him unresponsive as blood pools within view.]

—-

21:44:24 - 26:08:14
Agent Langley: [Coughing, strained.] “Pierce—go! Get out of here!”

[Panicked footsteps echo, followed by the faint ding of SCP-XXX-A-378’s door opening. Agent Pierce’s video feed cuts to near black as he steps into the darkness outside. His breathing is quick and labored, punctuated by occasional gasps.]

[The sound of rummaging comes through as Pierce rifles through his rucksack.]

Agent Pierce: “To hell with this. Sorry, boys. I'm activating this thing!"

[A sharp click is heard as Pierce presses a button, followed immediately by a guttural scream of pain. The audio crackles and distorts before the feed cuts abruptly.]

[Langley’s cam shows SCP-XXX-B-378 slicing upwards across his body with sharp precision before the feed cuts out.]

[Cut to Kim’s body cam, still active on the ground. There is a significant pause.]

—-

[SCP-XXX-B lumbers slowly towards Kim’s body. A freshly skinned human hide is draped over its shoulder (assumed to be Langley’s). It strips Kim of his clothing before slicing meticulously into Kim, flaying him before hauling the skin over its other shoulder. SCP-XXX-B then walks back behind the counter and appears to look in the direction of the broken sewing machine, remaining motionless until the camera’s battery fails.]

—-

[END LOG]

—-

Incident Summary:

Following the incident, Agents Kim and Langley were declared deceased on-site. Agent Pierce was declared deceased upon activating Protocol PELT.

SCP-XXX-B exhibits hostility when forcibly removed from SCP-XXX-A and becomes extremely violent should its sewing machine be damaged.

It is suspected that [REDACTED] is central to the the anomaly’s behaviour. Further investigated is recommended.

-Three Agents KIA

SCP-XXX Interview Log C-09

Document Title: SCP-XXX Interview Log C-09
Date: ██/██/20██

SCP-XXX Incident Log

Interview Transcript: Interview with SCP-XXX-C-09

Date: ██/██/20██

Interviewer: Dr. Horace Buckley

Note: C-09 is a 28-year-old woman that was inhabiting SCP-XXX-A-625 during a recent extraction event. C-09 is visibly nervous, squinting under the harsh lighting of the interview room.

[BEGIN LOG]

00:00 - 00:43
[Audio begins. The faint hum of fluorescent lighting is audible. C-09 fidgets in her chair, her breathing shallow and uneven.]

Dr. Buckley: “Good evening. My name is Dr. Horace Buckley. I’ll be asking you a few questions today. How are you feeling?”

C-09: [Voice trembling.] “Better, I guess. I mean… I’m glad to be out. Just…”

Dr. Buckley: “Take your time.”

C-09: “It was all so fast. I wish I’d had time to say goodbye. To my brother.”

[Dr. Buckley pauses briefly.]

Dr. Buckley: “I’m sorry about that. The nature of the extraction requires precision and speed. I’m afraid there’s little room for delay.”

C-09: [Quietly.] “I get it.”

Dr. Buckley: “We’re doing everything we can. If you answer our questions, we’ll do our best to extract him soon. Does that sound fair?”

C-09: [Nods hesitantly.] “Yeah. Okay.”

—-

00:44 - 01:51
Dr. Buckley: “Let’s start with this: how long do you think you were trapped on the road?”

C-09: “Around thirteen years.”

[Dr. Buckley exhales sharply.]

Dr. Buckley: “Thirteen years? That’s… remarkable. How did you keep track of the time?”

C-09: [With a faint, humorless laugh.] “Smutty calendars.”

Dr. Buckley: “I’m sorry?”

C-09: “There was this one store—it was just stacks and stacks of calendars. Nothing else. Most of them were these trashy, uh… pin-up calendars. I grabbed one, reused the pages every year, and kept tally marks. And then…”

Dr. Buckley: “And then?”

C-09: “Another store had working clocks—I counted the seconds. I’d sit there, watch it tick, and wait for the day to roll over. Can’t be certain about the exact days; I don’t know how long it took me to find them.”

Dr. Buckley: “That’s… impressive. Truly resourceful. Especially at such a young age.”

C-09: [Shrugs.] “You have to adapt to survive. Some stores are… you just can’t stay in them.”

Dr. Buckley: “Yes, we’ve heard stories.”

[There’s a brief pause as C-09 shifts uncomfortably.]

—-

01:52 - 05:01
Dr. Buckley: “So. The ‘employees,’ they appear mostly amenable. Have you encountered anything to the contrary?”

C-09: “Uh, no? No, I don’t think so. Apart from one time…” [C-09 trails off.]

Dr. Buckley: “One time?”

C-09: “There were… rumors. About people disappearing. Always when they were left alone with… those things. The employees.”

C-09: [She pauses, swallowing hard.] “I only saw it once. A friend of ours… she’d been with us for years. She was great, always good for a laugh. We left her alone with one of them for maybe a minute, and then… she was gone. No sound, no struggle. Just… gone.”

[C-09 sobs quietly. The rustle of tissues is audible as she blows her nose.]

C-09: [Whimpering softly.] “It had her name.”

Dr. Buckley: “Pardon?”

C-09: [Breath unsteady.] “The employee, in the store she disappeared in, its tag—the nametag. It had her name.”

[Short pause.]

C-09: [Whispering.] “We had to leave quickly after because that store was… not good. But I swear… The name tag was blank before. They usually are. I mean… oh god. What could that mean? Please, do you know anything at all?”

Dr. Buckley: “I’m afraid not.”

[Short pause. C-09 cries uncontrollably.]

Dr. Buckley: “I understand this is difficult. You’re safe now.”

[C-09 continues crying.]

Dr. Buckley: “In all your time inside the anomaly, did you encounter any other kind of employee? A manager for instance?”

[A short gasp escapes C-09. Her crying ceases.]

C-09: “…No. I don’t want to talk about that.”

Dr. Buckley: “Why not?”

[Short pause.]

C-09: “I just… I won’t. I’m sorry.”

Dr. Buckley: [Hesitantly.] “Very well.”

[Long pause.]

—-

05:09 - 07:09
Dr. Buckley: “May I ask… is that a dog collar around your neck?”

C-09: [Tenses.] “Yes.”

Dr. Buckley: “Do you mind explaining why you’re wearing it?”

[C-09 takes a deep breath. Her voice quivers slightly as she responds.]

C-09: “Me and my brother… we found this store, floor piled high with dog collars, no aisles. Name tags on all of them. But… the names weren’t human. They were things like Fudge and Scooby… pet names, you know?”

Dr. Buckley: “And?”

[C-09 remains silent, her hands trembling in her lap. She avoids eye contact.]

Dr. Buckley: “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I understand how the collars tie into any of this.”

[C-09’s voice cracks as she begins to cry again.]

C-09: [Sniffs.] “We just thought… if we gave ourselves different names, names you’d never see on a human’s nametag… maybe it wouldn’t happen to us. Maybe we wouldn’t disappear. It was stupid, I know, but…” [She trails off, exhaling shakily.]

Dr. Buckley: “Just a few final questions, and we’ll let you rest. What is the name on your tag? I can’t quite read it from here. And if you’re willing, I’d like to pay my respects to your friend—could you share her name as well?”

C-09: [Quietly.] “Patch. My tag says Patch. My friend’s name was Anita. Please—please don’t forget about my brother. He should still be in the store I was in when you found me—”

Dr. Buckley: [Interrupting.] “Thank you, ‘Patch.’ We’ll do everything we can to extract him.”

C-09: [Voice breaking.] “Erm, yeah. Thank you…”

[The room falls silent, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights.]

—-

07:09 - [END LOG.]

Note:
C-09 was "reabsorbed" into SCP-XXX approximately 187 minutes after this interview. Personnel monitoring her containment reported a loud "ding" sound, reminiscent of the chime heard when entering a 7-Eleven convenience store, accompanied by the distinct smell of ozone at the moment of her disappearance. No trace of C-09 remains.

Assigned Class-D personnel involved in the extraction were also "reabsorbed" within a time window of 8 to 23 hours post-extraction.

—-

[END LOG]

-Interview with SCP-XXX-C Instance Prior to "Reabsorbtion"

SECURE FILE: ACCESS RESTRICTED TO LEVEL 4  PERSONNEL ONLY.

This document contains sensitive information classified at Level 4. Unauthorized access or distribution is strictly prohibited and will result in immediate disciplinary action, up to and including termination.

Document Title: SCP-XXX Incident Log Delta-028
Date: ██/██/20██

Audio Transcript: Class D Personnel Exploration

Interviewer: Dr. Horace Buckley

Note: Class D Personnel D-23 was assigned to explore SCP-XXX-A-711, the seven hundred and eleventh instance of SCP-XXX-A. D-23 was transported directly to this location and falsely informed that Protocol PELT would guarantee their safe return. The following is a transcript of the communication feed recorded during the mission.

—-

[BEGIN LOG]

—-

00:00 - 01:23
[Audio begins with an extremely loud brassy tone, reminiscent of chaotic jazz. The sound is sharp, discordant, and almost unbearable.]

D-23: [Shouting.] “What the hell?! Hey, uh… you hear me?!”

Dr. Buckley: Yes. Please confirm your surroundings.

[The sound continues, growing more dissonant. D-23’s voice is strained.]

D-23: “What is that? Sounds like a bad jazz club.”

Dr. Buckley: D-23, please confirm the road ends at your assigned designation.

[Short pause. D-23 flicks on a flashlight.]

D-23: “Uh, yep. Yep it ends. Pretty abruptly, actually. Nothing but desert ahead though I can’t see too far in front of me. Want me to keep walking or?—"

Dr. Buckley: “No. Please proceed into the store.”

[D-23 lets out a small groan, turning off his flashlight. Footsteps on gravel can be heard as he approaches the store. The cacophony of brassy sounds grows even louder.]

D-23: [Sighs.] “The noise is definitely coming from inside. Lights are completely off. Can't see a damn thing, and the sign says ‘CLOSED.’ Should I… should I still go in?”

Dr. Buckley: “Proceed.”

D-23: [Muttering.] “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

—-

01:24 – 03:41
[There is a pause as D-23 attempts to manually open an automatic door.]

D-23: “Uh… I can’t get in. The door’s locked. Shit. Okay, you told me not to damage anything, right?”

Dr. Buckley: “Correct.”

[The jazz music becomes chaotic, the notes clashing intentionally.]

D-23: [Shouting louder.] “Alright. Let’s try this.”

[A loud knocking on glass is heard.]

D-23: [Shouting.] “Hey! Hey, you! Can you open the door? I’d, uh… I’d like to buy something!”

[There’s a pause. Wet, muffled footsteps can barely be made out.]

D-23: [Shouting.] “Hey, I think it heard me! It’s coming over.”

[The music crescendos, then cuts out the moment the door dings open.]

D-23: “Oh, thank god. That sound was fucking awful.”

[Short pause.]

D-23: [Addressing SCP-XXX-B-711.] “No offence, if that’s what you’re into. I’m just not a big jazz fan.” [D-23 laughs awkwardly.]

[Silence.]

D-23: “…Shit. Okay. This guy’s just… standing in the doorway. Not sure he wants me inside.”

Dr. Buckley: “Proceed.”

D-23: [Sighs.] “Jesus. Uh… appreciate the warm welcome, pal. Thanks for getting the door for me, I’m just gonna… slip… right past you…”

[Shuffling sounds as D-23 squeezes past SCP-XXX-B-711. The entity makes no sound.]

—-

03:42 – 05:55
[The interior is silent, save for the faint squelch of D-23’s boots on a wet, mushy floor.]

D-23: “It’s pitch black in here. Good thing I’m not scared of the dark."

[The wet squelching continues. D-23 stops walking.]

D-23: “But the ground does feel… strange.”

[Sounds of rummaging. The flashlight clicks back on.]

D-23: “HOLY FUCK!”

[A loud thud is heard as D-23 falls backward. The squelch of the floor amplifies. D-23’s breathing becomes erratic, bordering on hyperventilation.]

D-23: [Panicking.] “Oh no. No, no, no. What the fuck is this?!”

[He retches audibly, followed by the sound of vomiting onto the squelching floor. There’s a pause as D-23 coughs and gags, struggling to compose himself.]

Dr. Buckley: “Report. What do you see?”

D-23: [Hyperventilating.] “It’s flesh. The floor, the walls—it’s all flesh! And there’s… rolls. Rolls of skin. Like some kind of… fucked-up haberdashery.”

Dr. Buckley: “Elaborate.”

D-23: [He pauses, then breathes.] “They’re organized. By tone, by texture… even by scars. It doesn’t even smell, it all looks fresh and—Jesus Christ. The walls are breathing!”

Dr. Buckley: “Never mind the walls. Focus on the rolls. How many do you see?”

D-23: [Still struggling to catch his breath.] “What? I—I don’t know! Why does it matter? I’m going to initiate the protocol!”

Dr. Buckley: “No. You will not. Focus, and breathe. How many rolls?”

D-23: [Angrily.] “Christ. What? Fuck. Like… a hundred? Three hundred? I don’t know!”

Dr. Buckley: “Count them.”

D-23: “Excuse me?”

Dr. Buckley: “Count them. Need I remind you of what happens when you refuse orders?”

[There’s a long pause. D-23 exhales sharply.]

D-23: “Fine. But it’ll take a while.”

[Wet squelching as D-23 moves through the store. Muttering as they count.]

—-

05:56 - 10:11
[Time elapses as D-23 continues counting. The audio is strewn with frustrated grumbling. Squelching continues.]

D-23: “This’d be a lot easier with the lights on.”

[There’s a loud click, and fluorescent lights hum to life. SCP-XXX-B-711 speaks suddenly, its voice youthful and cheerful.]

SCP-XXX-B-711: “Anything else I can do to assist you today?”

[D-23 yelps.]

[Short pause.]

Dr. Buckley: “Ask it if you can speak to the Manager.”

D-23: “What? Why?”

Dr. Buckley: “Do as instructed.”

[After a pause, D-23 speaks hesitantly.]

D-23: “Uh… can I… speak to the Manager, please?”

[There’s a long silence.]

SCP-XXX-B-711: “Are you dissatisfied with my service, sir?”

D-23: “No! No, no, it’s not that. I, uh… I want to apply for a job?”

[Another, longer pause.]

SCP-XXX-B-711: “One moment, sir.”

[Wet, lumbering footsteps as SCP-XXX-B-711 moves toward a fleshy door at the back of the store. The door squelches as it opens.]

[Short pause.]

D-23: [Whispering.] “Are you sure about this? This… feels wrong. Something isn’t… right.”

Dr. Buckley: “Yes. How many skins?”

D-23: [Continues whispering.] “Seriously? Geez, I don’t know! I stopped counting. Shit. I got to… 101 maybe? But there’s a lot more.”

Dr. Buckley: “Do you see any items of clothing?”

D-23: [Panicked, hushed tones.] “What? No! Please. Something is really wrong here. I feel like… like my skin is being… undone. It isn't. It’s right here, I can see it on my arms but… it feels wrong. Please. I’ve seen enough.”

[The fleshy door squelches open again.]

[Silence.]

Dr. Buckley: “D-23?”
[Silence.]

D-23: “Huh.”

Dr. Buckley: “What is it? Report.”

[Long pause.]

D-23: [Quietly.] “Heh.”

[Short pause.]

Dr. Buckley: “Confirm what you are seeing, D-23.”

D-23: “It’s uh… it’s the Manager.”

Dr. Buckley: “Describe them. Do they appear human?”

[D-23 ignores Dr. Buckley.]

D-23: “Hello—oh, wow."

[Improvised, chaotic jazz blasts through the earpiece, layered with the crisp sound of fabric ripping and a faint, echoed cackle of a woman. The pattern is conversational, but the dissonance is almost intolerable.]

Dr. Buckley: “D-23, What is happening?”

[Sudden, unintelligible brassy tones and static cackling burst through the audio, nearly overwhelming the recording.]

Dr. Buckley: [Shouting.] “D-23, report! Describe what you are seeing!”

D-23: “Your coat…”

Dr. Buckley: [Frustrated.] “A coat? Are they wearing a coat? Confirm—"

D-23: [Interrupting, quietly.] “It’s… sublime. So many complexions.”

[Static cackling and brassy discordance plays again, it seems to almost purr.]

Dr. Buckley: [Exasperated.] “D-23, report! The coat, what is it made of?"

[Silence. The brassy tones abruptly end.]

[A woman with a strong British accent cackles.]

Woman: “Oh but this tone of yours, darling! Exquisite. I’ve been missing just this shade! You’ll be the pièce de résistance.”

D-23: “I uh—"

[The audio distorts violently before cutting abruptly.]

—-

[END LOG]

—-

Note: D-23 was declared missing. No further details on the "Manager" could be confirmed, although it appears to have some memetic properties.
All testing involving SCP-XXX and its inhabiting instances is suspended indefinitely.

Testing proves impossible, as no new entryways into SCP-XXX have occurred since this incident. The Foundation continues to monitor Nevada's deserted roads in case the anomaly resurfaces.