SCP-XXXX-J "Walking Disaster". An anomalous effect attatched to ███ ██████. Wherever he walks, chaos and disorder follow. Lights burn out; dust settles on the floor, computers suffer mysterious errors, things fall off shelves… The majority of the scp article focuses on the testing of SCP-XXXX-J by two unnamed researchers, who use SCP-XXXX-J to wreck Researcher ████████'s office "for science!"
If there was a termination log for SCP-XXXX-J, it would consist of "we left him alone for a bit and he managed to strangle himself with his own socks."
I find this greatly amusing: an SCP requiring detailed and convoluted containment to prevent him from accidentlly killing himself.
Item #: SCP-XXXX-J
Object Class: Safe Euclid
Special Containment Procedures:
███ ██████ is to be contained in a modified Humanoid Containment cell with standard amenities. Light fixtures must be bolted at least 5 m above the floor, and bathroom fixtures should be made of tempered steel and double-bolted to the wall. The standard electronic lock has been replaced by 2 (two) sliding bolts. Any equipment within 5 m of ███ ██████'s cell must be doubly redundant and built to Keter-level containment standards. All equipment within ███ ██████'s cell must be checked biweekly for damage. 4 (four) emergency "panic buttons" have been installed in the containment cell, and a fully equipped rapid-response medical team must be maintained on-site to respond to any emergencies caused by SCP-XXXX-J. ███ ██████ is to be monitored 24/7 for his own safety. Should the cell require maintenance, ███ ██████ must be moved at least 5 m away while repairs are effected.
███ ██████ is to be allowed any items he may request, as long as they are not in violation of standard security protocol, or the safety protocol outlined below.
███ ██████ is not to be allowed access to:
- Anything with sharp edges, points or corners (See Incident XXXX-J-37)
- Any furniture with a height greater than 0.5 m
- Glass, glasslike materials, or anything else that can shatter
- Zippers
- Loose clothing (due to strangulation risk)
- Books Any unrestrained items weighing more than 1 kg
- Anything you do not wish to be irreparably broken
███ ██████ is to be allowed free range of Site-19 in order to complete his janitorial duties.
███ ██████ is not to be allowed out of his cell except for approved testing. Under no circumstances may he be permitted within 10 m of other SCP containment areas or vital equipment.
Should ███ ██████ attempt to render assistance to any Foundation personnel, he is to be immediately restrained and locked in his cell for a minimum of 24 hours.
Description: SCP-XXXX-J is an effect associated with ███ ██████, a former janitor at Site-19. SCP-XXXX-J displays several anomalous effects which manifest in a 5 m radius around ███ ██████'s current location. Items and areas affected by SCP-XXXX-J show signs of heavy use with little or no maintenance. Additionally, any defects, problems, instabilities or flaws in objects exposed to SCP-XXXX-J are intensified, often to the point of causing complete failure. More specific effects are listed below:
- Computers suffer from frequent and inexplicable errors, ranging from pop-up messages to kernel panic.
- Items placed on shelves, desks, tables, or any other surface have an increased probability of falling to the ground, particularly if said items are breakable or valuable in any way.
- Lightbulbs have an increased probability of failing.
- Cables, string, rope, and chain become tangled and knotted.
- Fingerprints corresponding to SCP-XXXX-J are spontaneously generated on glass surfaces.
- Crumbs and juice droplets spontaneously appear on tables and desks. Analysis reveals the crumbs produced by SCP-XXXX-J are composed of nonanomalous white bread. Juice is most often grape, although lemonade and soda droplets have also been observed.
- Airborne particulate matter is spontaneously generated, with the highest concentration being directly behind ███ ██████. Analysis identifies it as ordinary dust, composed primarily of dead skin cells, dust mites, crumbs, and dirt.
SCP-XXXX-J's secondary effect is that whenever ███ ██████ attempts to perform or assist with a repair, he invariably ends up worsening the problem, often putting himself and nearby personnel at risk. (See Experiment Log XXXX-J-2)
Addendum XXXX-01:
Please note that despite the rigorous containment procedures and Keter-level equipment, SCP-XXXX-J is not Keter, and has in fact been voted "Least Threatening SCP" 3 for (three) months straight. If we left him alone for 5 (five) minutes, ███ ██████ would probably accidentally strangle himself with his own socks or something.
08/██/2013
Procedure: Researcher █████ instructs SCP-XXXX-J to walk through Researcher ████████'s office, which has just been cleaned and reorganized. SCP-XXXX-J is to follow a line marked on the floor, and not to touch or move anything.
Researcher ████████ has not been informed of the nature of SCP-XXXX-J.
Result: Office thoroughly inspected after ███ ██████'s passage. A complete list of the changes noted can be found below:
- A large cloud of dust is observable suspended in the air along the line followed.
- Additional dust and dirt noted settling on all horizontal surfaces. Large dust bunny found under Researcher ████████'s desk. Testing revealed no anomalous properties, and it was disposed of with extreme prejudice by janitorial staff.
- Cables associated with Researcher ████████'s computer equipment are found knotted and tangled. Researcher ████████ asserts all cables were neatly coiled before the experiment; however, as ███ ██████ displays no telekinetic properties, the veracity of this statement is highly questionable.
- Researcher ████████'s computer suffered several errors and had to be restarted after entering kernel panic. Errors could not be reproduced under similar conditions without the presence of SCP-XXXX. Researcher ████████ denied SCP-XXXX-J further access to her computer for testing purposes.
- Researcher ████████'s computer keyboard spontaneously developed a coating of grime. When shaken upside down, 0.7 grams of crumbs were dislodged from between the keys. Crumbs displayed no anomalous properties. Researcher ████████ shows signs of distress and claims she "just cleaned her keyboard last week."
- Researcher ████████'s computer screen is noticeably smudged and splattered with a substance later identified as grape juice. Fingerprints lifted from the screen match those of SCP-XXXX-J. Researcher ████████ appears visibly upset and claims she "dislikes grape juice" and "does not keep liquids near her computer."
- Several mechanical pencils kept in Researcher ████████'s desk are found to be empty of lead, and associated erasers are worn down and unusable. Researcher ████████ attempts to interfere with the experiment by refilling the lead cartridges, and is made to leave. Researcher █████ takes over experiment.
- 3 (three) books which fell off of Researcher ████████'s bookshelf during the experiment are found face-down on the floor with multiple bent and stained pages.
- Researcher ████████'s adjustable office chair noted to have readjusted itself to a height appropriate for someone ~2.4 m tall.
- Researcher ████████'s office door is jammed shut due to misalignment between the door and frame. On contact with SCP-XXXX-J, the doorknob wobbled and fell off, necessitating the use of outside force to open and close the door.
Note: Researcher ████████ has recieved an official reprimand concerning the state of her office. Possible connections to SCP-885-J are being investigated. Researcher ████████ claims she is "very clean" and that "you had no right to distribute photographs of my office after the XXXX-J experiment!" Investigations into possible mind-affecting properties of SCP-XXXX-J are ongoing, and Researcher ████████ has been temporarily relieved of duty.
08/██/2013
Procedure: Researcher █████ gives ███ ██████ a screwdriver and instructions to repair Researcher ████████'s door, which has become loose on its hinges due to the force required to open and close it.
3:00:26 Researcher ████████ leaves her office for a "20-minute break." SCP-XXX-J enters and is given instructions.
3:02:36 SCP-XXXX-J attempts to tighten the first screw but instead loosens it, causing it to fall out.
3:05:19 SCP-XXXX-J drops the screw under Researcher ████████'s desk and proceeds to tip the desk over while attempting to retrieve it.
3:09:57 SCP-XXXX-J provided with replacement screw and instructed to focus on repairing the door.
3:13:48 SCP-XXXX-J somehow manages to create a hole ~17 cm across in Researcher ████████'s wall using the screwdriver.
3:17:25 SCP-XXXX-J accidentally removes the bottom hinge from the door, causing it to lean at a 14° angle from the vertical axis.
3:18:50 The door falls off its hinges completely, trapping SCP-XXXX-J and causing significant damage to Researcher ████████'s desk.
3:19:08 Experiment aborted due to time constraints.
Result: After freeing SCP-XXXX-J, the door was inspected and found to have suffered major damage, necessitating replacement. Researcher ████████ has been reprimanded and is required to effect repairs within the next week.
Note: Researcher ████████ has suffered a nervous breakdown and is on medical leave until 08/20/2013. Her office is open and available for further testing of SCP-XXXX-J until that date.
Incident XXXX-J-37
██/██/2013
I have yet to write up this incident report, but it will involve ███ ██████ eating dinner in the Site-19 cafeteria and somehow causing a massive accident with a fork. It would be a crazy chain reaction (maybe he drops the fork, and bends to pick it up, falling off his chair at the exact moment someone walks by with a pot of hot tea… It ends with ███ ██████ almost getting killed, loose SCPs everywhere, and cleanup requiring at least three weeks.
This is in the process of being rewritten. Current rewrite ideas include:
Credit to Adam Henderson for this idea
My advice would be to add a recovery log and switch the gremlins from being biological life which somehow eats ink to being made of semi-dried ink somehow forming clot "organs" with paper skin and toner fluid blood, and to change the method of spreading so that if the printer is connected to a printer network then the network becomes a "carrier" so that any other printers connected will have gremlins form from ink spills by themselves.
Method of transmission: some weird anomalous energy/bit of code/nanobot impossible with current tech that gets in your printer and build these little ink-creatures that ruin everything. Obviously created to drive up sales of ink and printers–but who did it?
Item #: SCP-XXXX-J
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: The host printer of SCP-XXXX is to be kept in a standard chamber fitted with fluorescent lights set to a day/night cycle and 1 (one) ceiling-mounted air vent covered by a fine-mesh screen. There are currently 23 instances in containment, housed in an █████ brand color inkjet printer. Ink cartridges are to be replaced once every two (2) weeks with full remanufactured cartridges in all colors supported by the host printer, and used cartridges incinerated on-site to prevent the spread of SCP-XXXX. If the number of SCP-XXXX instances exceeds 35, additional instances must be euthanized and incinerated, and cartridge replacements restricted to once a month until the population stabilizes.
Description: SCP-XXXX instances are bipedal creatures about 2 cm tall and weighing an average of 1.6 grams each. They have oversized ears and noses, semi-functional sessile eyes and disproportionately long limbs ending in sharp claws. SCP-XXXX is presently unclassified, but displays behavioral characteristics observed in social insects such as ants. SCP-XXXX instances possess sharp fangs approximately 2 mm in length, used to puncture ink cartridges and shred paper for nests. They feed primarily off standard printer ink of any color, occasionally supplementing their diet with paper and toner, when available. It is unknown how they survive on this diet, as common printer ink and office paper lack the nutrients required for carbon-based life.
An SCP-XXXX colony will build a communal nest made primarily of chewed and shredded paper. Nests are typically placed in the feed mechanism of a printer, causing paper jams and other malfunctions.
SCP-XXXX are capable of sexual reproduction, with the females being responsible for egg laying and care. Eggs are laid in a new ink cartridge and hatch in approximately two (2) weeks. If no new ink cartridges have been installed in the printer, SCP-XXXX will not reproduce. Upon hatching, the juveniles will tear the cartridge open from the inside to escape. This often results in ink leakage, as it is rare for the developing instances to entirely consume the contents of a full cartridge. Ink released from an egg incubation cartridge will not be consumed by other instances of SCP-XXXX, but allowed to seep through the printer and often into the paper tray.
SCP-XXXX displays cleaning behaviors similar to those found in ant colonies, and will remove its excrement from the nest, typically relocating it to the scanner bed. While displaying no anomalous properties, its excrement, composed primarily of ink stabilizing chemicals, is extremely difficult to remove once it has dried.
If the host printer cannot support all instances, several will leave voluntarily and attempt to locate another printer to infest. SCP-XXXX instances are capable of climbing furniture and walls, and moving through holes as small as 0.5 cm in diameter. Larger groups (~25) have been observed using their bodies to bridge gaps and allow other instances to cross.
Ideas, some of which have been moved here to avoid certain people I live with finding them.
SCP-XXXX–An extradimensional precognitive entity with a bad sense of humor. When you're looking for something ("I just saw it here yesterday!") SCP-XXXX teleports it to SCP-XXXX-2, an anomalous area with the appearance of a typical teenager's bedroom. Items are often deliberately placed; someone looking for a stepstool may eventually locate it on the top of a bookshelf in SCP-XXXX-2, a place they are unable to reach without–you got it–the stepstool.
Creatures of the night
Probably too similar to other things here, but they're energy beings from another dimension, and "lodge" in your mind. They send you nightmares and when you believe in them, they can take physical form and eat you.
They reproduce by binary fission after they eat you; one becomes two, and then four, eight, sixteen, etc.
A tale centering on the problems caused by working at a job you can never talk about.
The Hardest Thing
My first SCP report was a silent triumph; the culmination of days spent working, and nights spent deflecting questions about what I do. No, I'm not just screwing around all day; I'm not hiding in my office wasting my life on the Internet. I'm writing containment procedures for an entity that could kill you all if we do the wrong thing!
That's what I think. But of course, I can't say that.
The thought buzzes through my mind all day; success, success, success! I want to tell someone, my friend, maybe, who can't understand why I'm never online anymore, why it takes hours for me to receive and reply to texts. My parents, who think I'm a layabout with a crappy job at an insurance company. I'm their failure; their underachieving child who, as the others go on to become rich and famous, works at a no-name company in the middle of nowhere. We thought you'd do something great they said to me once, and I almost told them about the breakthrough we made last week with SCP-███, but if they knew things like that existed…Not to mention the contract I signed!
But still, things slip through. The language, for example. "It's, like, anomalous or something," I said once, confronted with an impossible-to-open jar, before realizing my mistake. I covered it well, though; said it was new slang I picked up on the Internet.
(to be continued)