Do not edit other writers' sandboxes without permission.
5/Mlerm LEVEL 5/MlermCLASSIFIED |
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Item #: SCP-MlermObject Class: Euclid |
- AUTHOR PAGE
- CURRENT WORKPROJECT IN WORKING PROJECT
- Idea
- Food stuff
- The Inconsistent Carbo Family
- Dead City Radio and the New Gods of Supertown
- Kingdom of Stone
- Tab 4
- Mayonnaise
- MCF number 18
- don't even look, nothing is here
- MCF/Anabasis chars of mine
http://www.scp-wiki.net/andariel-halo-file
If for some odd reason you want to read any of my failed drafts or early versions of them (please don't1, it only feeds my vanity), contact me and I can send them to you, since my sandbox is running out of speis and looking ugly as hell.
** **My long meandering Director's Commentary is now located here** warning it is most likely very boring **
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my fiiiiiiiles
Item: SCP-69sofine
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-69sofine is uncontainable.
Description: SCP-69sofine refers to an indeterminate organization going by the name "Acuities Specialty, LLC"2. Said organization is responsible for the abduction and impressment of an unknown number of civilians for the purpose of carrying out unknown activities ranging from mundane to militaristic to potentially anomalous (See Addendum-69-2).
- "reverse serial killer"
a woman goes missing with her car. police find the car, and there's some guy dead in it
another woman goes missing, police searching for her find the same dead guy
it's basically copies of the same guy's body
the missing people are never found
- Whole town dreams its own existence
- 5000 people all together report themselves to the Foundation. They have been dreaming themselves as a town that does not exist. They all moved to either an empty field or an abandoned town, and every 1 or 4 or 9 years, when they all sleep, they dream 1 or 4 or 9 years worth of events in the town, before waking up back at the start.
1999 - dream - dream - dream - dream - 2008
wake up, 1999
1999 - dream - dream - dream - dream - 2000
wake up, 1999
2000 - dream - dream - dream - dream - dream - 2009
wake up, 2000
entire 5000 people are living years of their lives over the course of nightly dreams.
it's… like, some kind of anomalous organization or something that is recruiting tons and tons of people to do jobs for htem, then administering some manner of generic amnestic on them
and there's absolutely no way of knowing who was recruited and why
and it's not even clear this organization is still in operation, but the "recruits" are not too old
how do I piece that together
POSSIBLY RELATED TO ABOVE IDEA:
An apocalyptic event like in "Dies the Fire" in which a large portion of people around the world suddenly experience an apocalyptic event in which they must survive and adapt in a completely new post-apocalyptic earth. They live, fight, and die as normal. When the last of them dies decades later, all of them are revived and returned to the point where they were pre-apocalypse, in the normal modern world, retaining all their memories but not aged or changed physically.
Realized this is basically the plot of "The Inner Light" from Star Trek The Next Generation.
Cow affected by SCP-XXX. A single abscess was allowed to grow undisturbed.
Item: SCP-
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: All subjects infected with SCP-XXX are to be kept in Site-XX's Zoological Research center. Reports of unusual wildlife activity and/or acts of self-mutilation or attempted suicide should be investigated for signs of SCP-XXX. If confirmed, the subjects are to be contained if practicable. Otherwise, subjects are to be terminated and their remains incinerated.
Should a human be infected with SCP-XXX, they are to be brought to Site-XY and treated if necessary. End-of-life care procedures for later stages may only be authorized by a Site Director and with the consent of the subject. Long-term treatment for early cases have been largely successful in removing SCP-XXX infection.
Description: SCP-XXX is an unknown prionic pathogen affecting mammals, birds, and certain fish. The prion appears to be inert or otherwise inactive, and quickly dissipates in a subject's body. After an unknown period of time, the infected animal's brain physiology begins to change, including a shrinking of the medulla oblongata3, and a significant growth and increase of bloodflow to the inferior frontal gyrus.
Animals under the effect of SCP-XXX demonstrate extreme regenerative abilities, able to replace lost tissue and most internal organs without suffering the effects of external infection, exsanguination, or any apparent pain. Left uncontrolled, biomass will continue to accumulate, producing excess tissue and bone, appearing as abscesses accumulating throughout the body. Animals in this stage appear to be in pain, and will attempt to remove these abscesses by any means at their disposal, up to and including attempts to induce predatory other animals to attack them. Domesticated animals infected by SCP-XXX typically appear submissive and offer themselves to larger animals, including humans.
If not acted upon, the abscesses produce fully functioning duplicate appendages. The growth rate and location of the appendages often impede the animals' normal functioning, leaving them vulnerable to predators.
SCP-XXX was first discovered in ███ ████, Somalia during a violent altercation between local militants and forces from the Global Occult Coalition. The conflict is believed to have been triggered by the alleged presence of SCP-XXX in foodstuffs being provided to the locals by the Manna Charitable Foundation. As the GOC abandoned the area shortly before Foundation personnel arrived on scene, no further information could be obtained. Interrogation of surviving MCF personnel has yielded no information on SCP-XXX, although a potential link with SCP-1███ was mentioned by [REDACTED] under questioning.
Instances of SCP-XXX in humans have been limited, as local residents who had contracted SCP-XXX either died as a result or were later euthanized. Consumption of a small amount (estimated to be between 0.5 and 1 ounces) of the infected meat is sufficient for a human to contract SCP-XXX. A number of animals were being used as a source of food by several individuals; the individuals allowed the abscesses to grow unrestrained until full appendages could be removed from the animal and eaten.
While most affected individuals recovered from Somalia have been successfully treated, one case was too far advanced to safely treat. The individual was in the process of bifurcating from the top of the head, with both ends slowly regenerating. Once the bifurcation separated the esophagus from mouth, the individual suffocated before the esophagus could safely re-open.
Discovery:
Information regarding the discovery of SCP-XXXX has been found to involve sensitive information regarding an ongoing investigation. Only individuals assigned to the investigation of PoI-84 have been given credentials to access this information.
Witness testimony regarding the recovery of SCP-xxxx from Somalia have potentially found possible links to an unrelated ongoing Foundation investigation into a person of interest known as "Priscilla Locke".
Surviving infected were recovered in [REDACTED] some ███ km from the initial point of origin. The group was transported to Site-994, consisting of:
- 11 Black-backed jackals (Canis mesomelas)
- 32 Bat-eared foxes (Otocyon megalotis)
- 1 Lion (Panthera leo)
- 8 Hartebeests (Alcelaphus buselaphus)
- 3 Cows (Bos Taurus))
- 1 Reticulated giraffe (Giraffa camelopardalis reticulate)
Animals were put in separate containment chambers by species and divided into 3 groups. All subjects displayed signs of uncontrolled tumor growth within the first ten hours of containment4 and began to remove abscesses with teeth and/or claws. 7 of the 8 hartebeests and the giraffe were unable to reach several abscesses. These abscesses began to perforate the epidermis, revealing healthy tissue underneath. The giraffe was unable to remove an abscess on its neck, which branched off into a second neck. Giraffe became belligerent, necessitating use of force to restrain it.
Addendum-1: On 12/14/20██, foxes in containment were discovered to have merged together, in an apparent attempt to force abscesses to become tangled. The animal reportedly resembled a pulley or a crane, with one fox heavily mutilated in order to elongate its frame to act as a makeshift rope. The mass was witnessed attempting to breach containment by raising the mutilated fox up through the bars and lowering it through the other side of the door5.
The process of removing the foxes from its merged mass was completed without incident or interruption from the foxes themselves. Excess animal matter was incinerated, and all foxes involved have made a full recovery. Following the incident, all animals have been separated into new containment cells, capacity numbering no more than 2.
By Cgoodwin (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Cgoodwin
Item: SCP-69420
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures:
SCP-69420's location, ([REDACTED], to be listed as Site-69A) is boarded up and fenced off from the neighborhood. House has a functioning security system and the fencing contains a proximity alert system which will alert local law enforcement. A picked group of officers from ██████ police department have been deputized by the UIU in coordination with the Foundation for the express purpose of responding to this alarm, as well as maintaining a semi-regular patrol route of the neighborhood.
Should containment procedures fail, on-site personnel are to revert to previous containment procedures as described below.
SCP-69420's location, ([REDACTED[, to be listed as Site-69) is to be cordoned off as an active crime scene by local law enforcement. Foundation and UIU personnel on-site are to question Individuals-A and B no less than three times each and make note of any inconsistencies compared to prior interviews. If applicable, similar interviews are to be conducted with Individuals-C, -D, and -E and similarly reviewed for inconsistencies.
Investigations are to be conducted on-site as to the claims made by Individuals-A and/or -B to a degree sufficient to the Individual in question's liking. Any attempts to break from an investigation in order either to correct or contradict a statement made by either Individual risks SCP-69420's spread from the current location and the involvement of more such Individuals as to risk a complete loss of containment and an █K-scenario. In this event, any and all containment procedures are null.
Description:
SCP-69420 is a reality-altering event encompassing spc location, and involving the fictitious Carbo Family consisting of Individual-A (Jeanette H. Carbo, wife), Individual-B (Corello Carbo, husband), and sporadically, Individual-C (Dyna Mo Carbo, daughter), Individual-D (Rhetta Carbo, daughter), and Individual-E ("El Hilgero", unknown). Said individuals, prior to full containment, would manifest themselves in the neighborhood, where they were positively identified as residents of spc location, and began a six year long series of events culminating in the murder of Individual-A or -B by the other, and the disappearance of Individuals-C, -D, and -E. This series of events would then cycle again after a period of time, apparently affecting all residents of the neighborhood as well as █████████ police department records. It is unknown at this time how SCP-69420 induces these effects beyond its range, only that continued containment has been effective in ending any effects on neighboring residents. A request was made on 6/29/13 by Dr. Strysz to relocate all residents in the neighborhood and keep SCP-69420 fully sealed away A previous failure to contain search efforts for these individuals has caused SCP-69420 to extend its range to encompass ██ blocks of the neighborhood, culminating in the apparition of more fictitious individuals, and the disappearance of 2 actual residents (Still missing as of ██/██/2019). Said results are not common, as SCP-69420 has been operating for an unknown period of time prior to discovery without change in area of effect.
Despite the repetition of SCP-69420 events, area residents are unaware of any anomaly associated with the fictitious individuals, although discrepancies in dating as to repeated events (such as described in diary entries from neighbors) and seemingly "duplicate" relationships (one example cites a 80 year old grandmother claiming to have had a friendly relationship with Individual-A when both were aged 30, as well as the woman's granddaughter having a friendly relationship with Individual-A when both were aged 22) have aroused suspicion and paranoia amongst residents. This burgeoning awareness of SCP-69420 inexplicably ceases at the conclusion of an SCP-69420 event and is promptly forgotten at the start of another event cycle.
Beginning in 2001, the Foundation was made aware of a murder case in █████ in which "an abundance" of physical evidence implicating Individual-B in the murder of their family was uncovered, and that Individual-B had confessed to police as to their crime. Despite the supposed evidence, including the recovery of partial remains, the other Individuals of the Carbo family were located alive and well in SCP-69420's location. Individual-A attempted to confess to the murder of her husband, in order to protect their eldest daughter. UIU agents on the scene described a "family argument" regarding Individual-E which resulted in 2 agents requiring hospitalization for exposure to an unknown quantity of toxic chemicals and 4 further agents reporting shared auditory hallucinations apparently unrelated to the argument. See attached log Synopsis 8/5/01.
Foundation personnel were called in due to previous experience in the censored area, as well as the positive effects of amnestics in treating local officials and residents in the area. A group of officers assigned to the case were deputized by the UIU and kept on to continue the investigation as needed. Additional personnel have been added over time as needed. See attached Requisitions Log-Y.
Timeline of Events:
The following is a sampling from the initial 2001 activity report filed by Foundation agents R. Crest and V. H. Solon.
Activity: Investigation of a possible confirmed anomalous incident, temporarily filed as AI-14144 involving the Carbo Family, wife Jeanette, husband Corello, daughters Dyna and Rhetta. Location of anomalous incident [REDACTED]. Additional details on discovery available from UIU unit 8261 in neighboring ██████████.
Personnel: Agent Reinhard Crest (submitting agent), Agent Valerie Hutchins Solon, Dr. Amalric Gisco, Sheriff ████ "Bully" █████, Deputy Carol Gaines, Agent Harold Jin, Deputy Juan Andrade, Deputy ██████ Smith, Trooper ████ John, members of the UIU unit 8261 listed in coroborrating UIU files.
Synopsis:
8/1/01 - 8/5/01
Discovery of SCP-69420 and associated components (Individuals-A through -E). Details are compressed here:
- Individual-B, "Corello Carbo", while drinking with a friend (█████ ███), confesses to murdering his wife Individual-A, "Jeanette Carbo" and children. Friend contacts police later that night.
- Police arrive on the scene of SCP-69420 at 2216 and question Individual-B, who quickly confesses to murdering their family and is taken into custody. Police note the house is occupied by live individuals later identified as the family in question, who do not react to the arrest.
- At 0122, Partial remains identified as belonging to Individual-A are discovered in 3 garbage bags in the garbage container on the front lawn. Individuals-B, -C, -D, and -E are identified in the house and removed by police.
- 0500, additional remains are recovered buried in the back yard and are identified as arm and leg fragments belonging to Individuals-B through -E. The Individuals recovered have not been harmed. "Copious" amounts of blood are discovered in the house's bathroom sink, garage sink, bathroom shower, bathroom toilet, and backyard. Samples are taken for identification. Officers on the scene note the amount of blood, if taken from an adult female and three children, would be too much for any individual to indicate the victims are alive.
- Additional inquiries are made as to the identification of the remains and DNA testing is performed. Blood testing is performed on the blood samples.
- Around 0930 and 1000, Individual-A gives a full confession. A copy of the interview has been given to Foundation personnel and is attached as Log-XA.
- Additional remains are found on the property at 1600 the next day. Neighbors are questioned about the Carbo family and give "wildly contradicting" statements. UIU is called in from known contacts in the local police department investigating.
- 8/3/01, the UIU assumes full control of the investigation under the implication that the crime has occurred in neighboring censor, a US territory, thus making this a federal offense.
- 8/4/01, the UIU contacts the Foundation for assistance.
8/5/01 - 2/12/02
Reinhard Crest, submitting agent.
06:00 am
Agent arrives at █████ with Agent Solon and meets with Sheriff ████ "Bully" █████, along with Deputies Gaines, Andrade, and Smith. All officers have prior history of cooperation with the UIU and have now been deputized to take part in the investigation. The anomalous nature of the "crime" is the main focus of conversation.
07:30 am
Agent arrives at censor police department to review gathered evidence and log files, then proceeds to ███████████ jail to conduct additional interview with Individual-B, while Solon heads to location with Gaines, Andrade, and Smith.
10:00 am
Agent receives call from Solon indicating an "issue" at the house and advises "Bully" to contact UIU oversight director, indicates she has contacted Foundation as well.
10:35 am
Agent arrives at the house to discover fresh remains found in the boot of a vehicle belonging to Individual-A. The remains are identical to Individual-B. A call is made to ███████████ jail, where it is confirmed Individual-B is alive and well.
10:40 am
Individual-A confesses to murdering Individual-B and states Individual-B had come home the previous night in a "murderous rage" and began to physically assault their youngest daughter, Individual-D, "Rhetta Carbo". Individual-A sought a garden hoe and attacked Individual-B, inadvertantly puncturing their abdomen. Individual-B did not stop their assault, and so Individual-A continued to lacerate them until they perished. Individual-A indicates her first concern was to put her children to bed and calm them down, claiming she would take their father to the hospital and he would be "fixed" by morning. Individual-A then backed her car into the garage, placed the body into the boot, and left the car in the driveway. By morning, she was still undecided as to what to do about the body until the arrival of Agent Solon on scene. UIU officers on the scene advise that the house was cordoned off throughout the night and there was no activity inside the house between the discovery of the anomalous remains up until that morning. The house was investigated previously following the removal of the children and no sign of Individual-A was found inside the house.
11:25 am
Individuals-C, -D, and -E are discovered inside the house alive and well and shaken following the incident alleged by their mother the night before. The daughters coroborate their mother's story, while Individual-E, responding only to the name 'El Hilgero' refutes the story altogether.
11:45 am
Individual-E seals themselves off in their bedroom and refuses to cooperate with officers on sight. Agent, with consent of Individual-A out of concern for Individual-E's health, forces open door to retrieve Individual-E. Agent hands Individual-E over to their mother, and both individuals proceed to emit an unidentified pale blue gas from their orifices. Agent attempts to evacuate the house, but 2 UIU agents are incapacitated and unable to escape. Solon re-enters the house to discover the Individuals have disappeared, and the gas has completely dissipated.
12:00 pm
Everyone on site is taken to the censor hospital. The house is cordoned off until hazmat teams can arrive on site.
1:51 pm
Agent is cleared and discharged by hospital staff, along with Solon and accompanying ambulatory personnel. The two UIU agents remain hospitalized. Four UIU officers who were on site advise that they had heard in the house voices emanating from the attic. Two distressed young voices were allegedly calling out for help, while a third distressed voice urged the other two to be quiet, or else they would be discovered by an unknown individual. None of the other agents or officers on site can coroborrate overhearing this exchange.
2:15 pm
Agent receives a call from censor censor jail, where Individual-B is re-interviewed regarding the events that had unfolded that day, including the discovery of a body seemingly identical to themselves. Individual-B cannot account for the events, and "seems hesitant" to comment further without a lawyer present. Individual-B is now asking officers whether it is possible for them to retract a confession.
2:40 pm
Agent returns to the house, where hazmat team has deemed the area safe. Solon discovers that the house does not have an attic, nor any enclosed space unaccounted for in the blueprints.
8/6/01
10:00 am
Agent arrives at the jail with Solon to interview Individual-B once more. Individual-B has changed their story, now claiming they did not murder their wife, only to then claim they did in fact murder Individual-A, as Individual-A was in the process of physically assaulting their children and Individual-B feared for the childrens' lives. Individual-A allegedly would not cease their assault until they had been fully dismembered and decapitated. Solon notes that the partial remains of Individual-A do not indicate any decapitation or dismemberment had taken place (note: Partial remains consisted of a portion of the left upper torso, along with entire intact left arm, and portion of the head from the chin down). Individual-B cannot account for the discrepancy and becomes concerned by it.
11:15 am
Agent receives update on hospitalized UIU agents indicating both suffered from heavy metal poisoning.
the title is a lie
a 1970s era hurricane soaks through a tree which steadily dies. in 2019 or 2020, that tree is cut down and it is revealed, inside the tree trunk is a hollowed out space where a tiny re-construction of the local neighborhood exists as it did pre-1970s hurricane. exact duplicates of the neighborhood and people, who are all dead due to the hurricane in the tree which destroyed everything and killed everyone in the 1970s. the remants of the mini neighborhood are near identical in composition to the real world equivalent from the 1970s, including DNA from the tiny skeletons matching those of the living people they imitated.
Overseer… Five? Was it that one?
"I have to talk to myself out loud," He croaked, "For my thoughts suffocate beneath the storm of noise that forever clouds my mind."
He couldn't tell if he was walking or imagining he was walking.
"Where am I? Where am I headed?"
He looked around, and saw no one, "But haven't I been trailed by my escort for some miles now? Where could they be?"
He patted his knee, and carefully lowered himself to the ground, turning over to sit on his rump, and look up at the sky.
"Where is the sun? Was it always so gray?"
He put a hand up to shade his eyes. The armored knight beside him put his hand on the Overseer's shoulder, "It has always been gray. The clouds envelope the earth. The sun shines no longer."
"Oh, thank you, my girl," The Overseer smiled and patted the armored hand, "Oh, my apologies, young man… I know how sensitive you types can be, with your dangly parts."
"My lord, we have the enemy in sight. Shall we attack?"
The Overseer looked up again, "Is that the sun? No… I remember now."
He dragged himself to his feet, stiff arms flailing as he sought to catch his balance. No one was around to help him. He slowly began to turn, taking in a full view of the land around him. Empty, flat lands, the dust pale brown and gray. Every breath he took was a vicious assault on his lungs. Turning the way he came, the dust was still. Turning the way he was going, the dust was stirring, moving, billowing in the air.
"Aye… there they are," The Overseer smiled, and waved a brittle hand in the direction of the dust. He turned, looking up and seeing no one, "Of course, it's difficult to keep track of you all. You move so quickly. Sometimes I'm not even sure you're there at all."
The Overseer sighed, and sat back down. The armored knight patted his shoulder again, and turned to the rows of infantrymen standing ready. He called forth a young boy, and smiled down to him.
"Tell the men we take the enemy from the rear. Tell them not to charge until they have loosed all but one of their missiles. Have them count to forty, then we begin."
He smelled it moments before the horns sounded. Smelled them. It was uncanny; the smell of hot, sweaty men was barely noticeable over the odd, faint smell of something that simply did not belong. Like a cool, fresh batch of panacea, suddenly intruded upon by the subtle metallic waft of blood.
Overseer Seven stepped out from the line, stepping back away from his small group to better take in his surroundings. They all knew what to do; already they began to halt, huddling together as they moved from a loose mass on the march into a tight collection of straight lines. Once they had straightened up, they would all about-face, turning to meet this sudden enemy.
The Overseer watched as the approaching horde began to slow. Just then, something smashed into his helmet, with enough impact to stagger him, his half-helm twisting on his head, leaving him blind as he hit the ground. Adrenaline charged through him as he lunged to his feet, twisting his half-helm back in place, in time to see the next wave of missiles coming down on his men. Javelin, darts, rocks, even a sword or two, blades and warheads glinting. Metal weapons.
This was too sloppy and noisy to be a professional fighting force, yet too well-armed to be a band of brigands or peasant rebels. The sound made as they smashed into the heavily armored lines of his own men indicated they had good, solid shields too.
He scowled, and unsheathed his sword, returning to the lines to take direct command of the fight.
The caravan that went out with Dodger numbered about forty people. Most of them hauled wagons behind them, latched on to their belts, with sacks of cloudy water hanging from their waists or necks. Everyone walked. Knights hauled as did peasants and helpers. People worked together regardless of class or age or sex, a true harmony of equality as all shared in the same suffering.
There was the distinct possibility that no one in this caravan would return to Whore's End alive. Dodger figured she might, being the only one whose blood was more panacea than plasma by this point. Every day she looked at her reflection in a steel mirror, she saw something subtly less human. The staples in her head corroded frequently, needing to be replaced every few months. Her eyes seemed to be drying out, looking more and more like glass orbs with bright blue irises painted on. Her skin had the consistency of paper, and grew pale without fresh doses of panacea. Only when she was grimy and dirty did she manage to look normal. Even then…
They always see through me.
They'd left Whore's End the night before. Dodger was glad she had the chance to say goodbye to Kit — her face sporting a new reddened bump weeping petrifying blood like cement. She pitied the poor girl, having been selected to train under that giant of a woman who had been so pleasant to Dodger her first day there.
She slowed, and let one of the knights catch up to her, "You there. You know where we're going?"
The man looked panicked, "You're supposed to know."
She snorted and grinned, "Do you know anything about the area?"
"No," He shook his head, "I hail from far north of Whore's End. Everything to the south is unknown to me."
"You scared?" Dodger muttered softly, still grinning wickedly.
The man stared back at her wanly, "Should I be?"
She shrugged, and went on ahead of the caravan. Looking down at her notes, she smiled again, "I've entirely forgotten what a 'Bugbear' looks like."
In the midst of battle, determining whether one's side was winning or losing was impossible. Oftentimes it was irrelevant; all that mattered was killing. The Overseer had learned one trick to determining the sway of combat; whether your side was taking more steps forward or back. He'd lost count of how many steps back he and his men had taken.
Despite that, the bodies that fell most consistently were those of the jabbering attackers. They howled and screamed as they charged, and dropped wordlessly, death rattles cut off by the force of a spear dug through their soft throats. Most of them lacked helms, and those that did lacked proper protection for their throats. It was too easy in most cases for the Overseer's men to put them down with a single thrust with an overhand strike.
The Overseer stepped back, letting another armored man take his place. Taking in the sight of combat around him, he saw why his men were stepping back. The press of enemy soldiers kept driving them back. They stood on the dead and used them to catapult themselves over the front line, using flesh itself to incapacitate an armored knight, breaking his spear in the man's gut or denting his helmet so severely as to force him to cast it aside.
His men were chosen for their height. They were tall, lithy, powerful. The barbarian foe stood two heads shorter in most cases. Now they were eye to eye with his knights.
A mountain of meat steadily grew and pressed down on them. The more the knights stabbed, the more the mountain seemed to grow. Knights were falling out of line, vomiting their guts out from sheer exhaustion. Men in the rear pulled them out of line, to keep them from being crushed beneath their comrades, or the mountain that lurched ever closer.
They were outnumbered, stretched too thin as it was to even attempt a risky flank attack. The Overseer rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and stepped back into the fray, shield held high and spear clasped overhand, all the while his body burned with exhaustion. By now, he doubted any of the knights didn't feel as though their blood was aflame. This was their business, and they were the best at what they did.
- something involving Anchorage. Breach of some sort or the like. something radioactive or toxic is leaking. people aren't dying but are changing. Some become new species that is essentially a species of Giants, physiologically similar to human but with simplified organs and reaching average 10 - 20 feet tall. people effected do not view giants as being unusual or anomalous. people start dying, then disappearing, then returning alive. information on this event in this town keep leaking to the media, necessitating constant news reports of a nuclear event necessitating evacuation of town and such.
- underground facility in an office building. mining or something of the sort. some manner of wild animal is revealed underneath and militarized forces are going under to hunt them down. the air down there is toxic and causes reality-altering events. soon, events in the sub-lobby of this building start repeating, with people witnessing events re-occur constantly, such as the same soldier in the same power armor approaching the same front desk and dropping the same giant bag full of animal corpses. sometimes the animal corpses are power armor helmets. sometimes they are different things, but the course of events and conversations are always identical.
a news report on the two locations happens and the scp manages to shut it down after a few pages of information are leaked
these repetition events continue even after the mine has been sealed up. the subway tram that leads into the mine no longer exists, but every few weeks the station continues to sound the alert that the tram is coming. attempts to disable these alerts from the tram station seem to correlate with a gradual increase in technical issues and code corruption throughout computer systems at the Anchorage site.
people who sit in the tram station overnight when these events occur report seeing the tram arrive in station and off-load groups of people. some of these people resemble people who have died (natural deaths) who previously worked on the site, some of them are missing substantial portions of bodily tissue and are unable to respond. some are hostile but unable to threaten or pose any significant threat due to severe lack of muscle and tissue mass. as these these tram events occur, the concrete used to fill in the mine appears to lose a portion of its mass, gradually becoming brittle and at risk of collapsing entirely.
The people are actually made of a slimy, filmy white biomass that is nutrient rich and can be used as substitute for topsoil for growing crops. It displaces matter in primary universe so concrete and various debris detritus was being used in place for this mass to form. Failure to provide mass for the biomass to replace will cause it to expand and start to replace the matter around it, possibly leading to sinkholes.
Item #: SCP-192168
Object Class: Epilektos
Special Containment Procedures: While SCP-192168 is deemed neutralized, continuous effort is to be made in terms of monitoring social media traffic and/or local news media in the greater Miami metro area for any reports of interpersonal acts of violence related to SCP-192168. Mortuaries and hospitals in the area are to be monitored for the foreseeable future for indications of decedents affected by SCP-192168. Sizeable donations are to be made to the affected hospitals on behalf of local Foundation charitable fronts and affiliates on an annual basis for a period of no less than twenty-five years. Donations are not to be cancelled under any circumstances without the prior approval of at least 4 level 4 personnel or one O5.
The annual operating budgets for Sites-305, 4480, 918A, 005, and 2788 are to be permanently increased by 25%. Additional budget increases requested by site directors are to be expedited for consideration. On-site counseling services are to be made available to all personnel free of charge. All requests for leave by personnel is to be expedited to the newly formed Department of the GMM Revitalization, Foundation Resources. Additional funding is to be earmarked for substitutes for any personnel necessitating extended leaves of absence.
Funerary services for affected Foundation personnel and/or their family members are to be subsidized by the Foundation, and bodies are to be interred temporarily in Site-305-Wynwood Annex until such time as plots of land allocated for cemeterial usage are fully shielded and reinforced. No decedent is to be interred or cremated until this time. Cremations must be done at Site-4480-Homestead Annex with IPC-260 or higher matter-scrubbing filters fitted.
An ongoing campaign is underway to infiltrate local area governing bodies and plant Foundation assets to steadily replace all elected officials who have assumed office prior to, or immediately following SCP-192168's neutralization. Once all local government offices are occupied by Foundation personnel, a larger-scale socio-economic restructuring of the Greater Miami Metro area can be implemented. Should containment procedures succeed, no further action will be needed. If procedures fail, SCP-192168 is to be reclassified as Keter and preparations made throughout the Florida peninsula, Cuba, the Bahamas, and any neighboring region susceptible to SCP-192168's advances.
Current analyses do not indicate a significant risk of SCP-192168's "re-activation" and thus will remain classified as "epilektos" until such time as rate of homicides, disappearances, and abnormal spikes in the discovery of unidentified decedents return to pre-SCP-192168 levels. Discussion is ongoing amongst Site Directors as to whether these procedures constitute a permanent "new normal" for the Greater Miami Metro area or not.
Description: SCP-192168 lied to us.
Dodger sat down on the couch in the lobby of MCF Africa Branch's main office in Johannesburg. She was almost happy for once. Happy at least to see Rhiannon Locke for the first time in a decade. She glanced down at the bundle in her lap and pulled back the cover of the manilla envelope again, casually rereading the contents from the page she had left off on.
"The massacre in Laascaanood that had followed the Manna Charitable Foundation's failed mission was the one to nearly put an end to the MCF. The size and scope of the MCF didn't matter; the Global Occult Coalition was larger and had the UN's backing. The 'Sour' outbreak had drawn the MCF to Somaliland, but it was the problem with the Vesta donation that led to the chaos.
Martina Bauer, "Dodger", was one of the MCF personnel extracted from Laascaanood by the GOC. According to her, it played out like she expected; everyone picked up was separated, interrogated, treated antagonistically, and ultimately released back to the MCF. Except for her.
It was already shaky for them to appear in Laascaanood and start deploying fully functioning buildings in a matter of days. Then the local wildlife started eating the fungus that made the buildings. Then they started growing flesh, regenerating lost limbs, and wandering into villages and towns without fear of the human populace.
We set her up in a hotel in Bosnia-Herzegovina. The questions we asked her she claimed she couldn't fully answer. Truthfully she wasn't meant to. They were less inquisitive and more accusatory, and not aimed at her specifically but the MCF as a whole. How could they be so sloppy? How did animals get into the fungus before it fully matured? Who was Priscilla Locke? What was the Anabasis? Why had she been brought on without sufficient a background check and put an untested anomalous device to use? Why had they let it escape?"
Who had said that about her? She kept opening the envelope to scan further down the page until it finally reached a name. Black bars. She smirked and got up as Rhiannon came out to lead her in to Kone's office.
"They just dumped you and left you there like— like a hostage?" Rhiannon was still uneasy about Dodger's upbeat tone.
"It's not fair to characterize it like that." She said to Rhiannon as they walked into the elevator. "It was a nice hotel. And it was only about eight months. I've been around since then. Just sort of waiting."
"Well no one knew you were out until just last year." Rhiannon still felt guilty about it. The image in her mind was of Dodger locked away in a GOC detainment center for ten years. "What have you been doing?"
"Nothing," Dodger shrugged, "I spent nine years sitting at home, watching TV, freelancing, exotic dancing, fishing, picking internet fights, and sitting at home."
"You never thought to contact us?"
"You all didn't think to contact me." She retorted and quirked a brow at Rhiannon, "The GOC told me not to reach out to anyone, that they would contact me. So why didn't you?"
"We just," Rhiannon squirmed and shrugged helplessly, "We didn't know. We didn't know where you were or what had happened. Kone told us you had most likely defected. Lindsberg thought you might've been fearing retaliation and so you went into hiding. Everyone had their own little theory for a while. Then we just sort of—"
"You forgot about me." Dodger smiled cheekily as they sat down together in the waiting area, "Once you get past the good looks, the loveable nature, and the deep facial scarring, I'm pretty forgettable."
"Did you get those scars from Laascaanood?" Rhiannon glanced at her face, not lingering too long on it.
"Yeah," Dodger rubbed at her nose. A deep scar tore horizontally across the bridge of her nose, almost segmenting the septum, and over her left cheek. Another curved scar cut deeply into her right cheek near the jawline. She had always thought herself pretty. Beautiful. Astonishingly gorgeous, the type who could make a fashion statement with just a burlap sack. She had spent enough time with the shredded meat looking back at her in the mirror to come to terms with the fact that most people in their right minds would consider her ugly.
She rubbed at the scar that slashed into her right cheek, "If I hold water in my mouth long enough, this scar starts to leak."
Rhiannon whined, "Why would you tell me that?"
Dodger giggled, then got serious, "The MCF didn't think to contact me, really? Not even a call, a private detective to track me down, a fleeting internet search?"
Rhiannon frowned and shook her head, "Everyone thought Laascaanood would be the last straw for you. They figured you didn't want to be found."
Dodger sighed, "Maybe I shouldn't have let you find me. That's always been the problem with Manna. No one knows what anyone else is doing or where they're doing it until it blows up and the Other Foundation or the GOC comes to clean up after us. 'Just like Mexico', they used to tease me with. 'Just like Somalia' they'll get to add to it now."
Rhiannon shrugged again, "It's just how it is."
"That's the problem." Dodger said again. "What about… What happened with you and your sister?"
Rhiannon didn't visibly react but her gaze was slightly off as she replied, "That wasn't my sister. I mean, it was… That wasn't my sister." The memory was still new for her, still vivid and fresh, "She left with the Anabasis. Left us completely. Maybe she went back to the place she came from or… or not. I don't know how to feel. It's not a very relatable experience, to have lost a family member, then had an alternate universe version of them come back only to leave again. It's hard for me to process. All I can do is just… Wish them well."
Dodger pursed her lips and gave an empty nod, "That sucks." She muttered. Then she drew her arm around Rhiannon's shoulders and hugged her.
Joseph Kone had lingered in MCF Africa Branch while so many others drifted away. Most retired or joined up with the GOC or the other Foundation. A handful of others were sacked after the Somalia disaster. Cortes had been one of them. She was the deciding vote in letting them bring along an unknown asset in the Anabasis. In reality it was Rhiannon Locke who had sold them all, but Rhiannon Locke was a Junior Assistant Secretary. Cortes was above her. Locke had offered to resign but Cortes wouldn't allow it. So Cortes took the blame and Cortes was sacked. Despite that, Rhiannon Locke's career came to a halt. Kone kept her on in Mission Branch for Africa, but she would never rise above Assistant Secretary nor would she ever be put in charge of any future donation.
Here she comes, Kone thought as Rhiannon Locke entered his office with a very familiar face beside her, making it worse for herself.
"Hi." Dodger said with a sheepish smirk.
"You motherfucker." Kone rose up from his seat. She didn't look any different since Laascaanood, except for the scars. When had she gotten into a face-off with a lawnmower? He stepped around the desk and approached her, looking her over with awe before pulling her in to a big hug.
"What the hell have you been doing with yourself? You look like you just stepped off the plane from Somalia."
Dodger shrugged, expecting a cordial greeting but not quite that cordial, "I don't know where you all got this idea of the GOC as being some kind of paramilitary global police force."
"That's literally their job description." Rhiannon said.
"Well, like, with paranormal and abnormal stuff, not with people." Dodger replied.
"I still can't believe they did you dirty like this." Kone put his hands on his hips and glanced back over at his desk, "Ten years treading water, good God, I don't know how you could take it."
He motioned for them to sit across from his desk, then sat himself down and looked Dodger over again.
"Maxwell wants you."
"Oh God."
"There's an opening in the Americas branch that they want filled. Associate Director. And the GOC suggested you."
Dodger vaguely remembered some of the interrogating she'd been subjected to. Lots of yelling and shouting and accusations of recklessness and misconduct encompassing everything about Programme Las Anod-1 and directed at her as if she were more than a grunt on the ground. More than a grunt. An executive grunt. Chief executive grunt.
"What do you mean, 'suggested'?" Rhiannon asked warily.
"Just that. Suggested." Kone said calmly, not betraying any of his own feelings about it.
"So from what I hear," Dodger shifted in her seat and pressed her knuckles against her scarred cheek to crack them, "The GOC takes me into custody, blames me for anywhere between fifty to sixty percent of the Somalia thing, keeps me under house arrest for a while, then releases me and says they'll tell you guys to contact me. Then eight, nine years pass and they finally get around to telling you guys to contact me, and then suggest that I fill in as Associate Director of the Americas branch."
She looked between Rhiannon and Kone, gripping the armrests of her seat now. Neither of them responded.
"Oh come on, this is a fucking trap! I'm a 'Manchurian Candidate', they've hidden a remote control up my butt and, and, and plan on turning me on once I get close to the Director so I can kill them or whatever. What the hell is this?"
"Did they put something up your butt?" Rhiannon asked hesitantly.
"Locke." Kone gave her a look, then turned to Dodger, "The GOC isn't interested in sabotaging us. And after Laascaanood, they could've pulled the trigger on us at any moment and probably been well within their rights to. You have no idea how much that disaster cost us, not just in terms of people and materiel, but support. We lost a third of our major donors after that. If not for the GOC, we would've lost a third more."
"So then why me? Aside from the eight months house arrest, I have no ties to the GOC. I barely even read anything they give us. This is clearly some kind of political infiltration thing"
"The decision doesn't rest with the GOC, it rests with Maxwell." Kone said calmly.
"And Maxwell said yes." Dodger was squirming, frustrated, and uncertain exactly why.
"He did and you're going to Toronto."
"This is a setup."
"Tell him that, if you like. The GOC doesn't have the time or the energy to play games with us like that. You haven't been around the past ten years so you don't know just how big of a blowup Somalia was for us. If it was the other Foundation, they would've taken direct control and terminated all of us, then set up a brand new MCF made up entirely of their own people. The GOC had that chance and they refused to. Many times."
It was all frustrating to Dodger and she couldn't get past the inconsistencies. Why her? That was the most pressing one. Leaving aside her occasional charm, the only social skill she had mastered was the ability to antagonize everyone without a vested interest in her, personally or professionally.
"There's no way out of this?"
Kone shrugged, "You could always turn it down."
"But then I'd be out of MCF permanently."
"Not necessarily, but… You've been gone for so long and almost everyone who could've vouched for you is gone. You've been with us since, when? 1994? Apart from that ten year stretch after Somalia you've been here longer than anyone else left in Africa Branch."
Dodger frowned and sank back into her seat. Something had to be seriously wrong with the Manna Charitable Foundation.
Maxwell sat upright in his chair, angled slightly askew from his desk and gazing pensive at the window that normally overlooked Toronto below. Right now, it was shuttered from the inside, but Maxwell seemed not to care.
"Martina Bauer. Martina Bauer? Why do they call you 'Dodger'?"
Dodger sat upright in her chair opposite him, looking far less natural in this environment. They had told her to get a suit, so she did. She wore a skirt and plain black shoes, orangey-red hair combed and a tasteful amount of bare skin showing below her neck. It all contributed to making her feel uncomfortable and on edge, afraid to slouch or even blink too much. Or too little.
"It was a… When I was in basic training, there was a man there who said I resembled an ex-girlfriend of his. I don't remember if he said her last name or first name was 'Dodger' but he started calling me that and soon so was everyone else. He tried to flirt with me but it was… It didn't work out."
Zachariah Maxwell swelled and turned to face her, a smile slowly broadening, "He wouldn't accept 'no' as an answer. He wouldn't change no matter how badly he treated you."
"Well it didn't escalate to that point." She felt perturbed by Maxwell's movements. Not the smile, but something about how he moved felt almost theatrical, slow and deliberate movements, a hand rising, finger extending upward, the other grasping the desk as if about to rise, "There wasn't any violence involved, just… mutual humiliation."
"No." He pointed the elevated finger at her, "Yes and no. Yes that's where you may have gotten the name, but no, that is not why you allow others to call you that. Martina Bauer, why are you called Dodger?"
"I don't understand what you mean. Like…" Her mind started to race, dreading a sudden turn toward a cheap pseudo-psychological 'what's in a name?' discussion.
"Do you want to be called 'Dodger'?"
"Yeah. I mean it's been so long by now, my own name almost sounds foreign to me."
Maxwell remained in that pose for a moment longer, then relaxed and put his hands in his lap, "Alright. Straight to the point: I want you here. I want you heading the Americas branch. I'm not going to bullshit or baby you. You are a brute. A subtle brute, and that's what I want."
She nodded, still on edge but showing nothing.
"You know… I'm sick of this. Don't even answer this; what comes to your mind when I say 'The Foundation'? Competence, clarity, a strong and narrow focus on an objective and getting that objective at what ever cost."
"Okay." She nodded again, used to this sort of talk but rarely seeing it being deployed on the field.
"You know what comes to the mind of most people? Cold, callous, ruthless. That's been the problem." Maxwell was still seated but looked eager to jump to his feet. He was hiding something, nothing nefarious, at least for Dodger, but something big.
"There comes a time, Dodger, where the way things were is not enough anymore," Maxwell's voice was shaking now, intensifying, until he was slamming a fist on the table with the last few words, "Where the honorable thing isn't good enough, where shit needs to get done and it needs to get done now or it doesn't get done at all!"
"You mean you plan on killing people?" Dodger asked flatly, "Steal from the rich, give to ourselves kind of thing?"
Maxwell pointed at her, unable to hide a smirk, "No. Not people. But yes. Stealing. But not from anyone. Not from anyone here."
Now he did get to his feet and moved to the door at the back of the room. She instinctively got up to follow him. He was brimming with excitement but not saying a word as he led her to a large storage closet, with a false electrical panel that he stripped off with a sharp snapping noise. Underneath was a deep crevice in the wall. He reached in, the crevice deep enough that his hand disappeared within and he lurched back and forth a bit as he struck at something back behind it, struggling to get a firm grip before starting to pull.
The wall shifted back, no hinges on it, just a big slab of concrete that grated noisily as it was dragged across the floor.
"Help me with this." He said as he managed to get a few inches out. There was nothing to grab on to so Dodger put her fingers along the exposed side and tried to squeeze it back, putting her weight into forcing the slab across the threshold.
If Dodger was expecting the slab to give way to reveal some vast expanse of tunnels or intricate caverns or a palatial secret room she didn't show any disappointment as Maxwell let the slab go with just enough space for them to squeeze in.
The room was barely a closet, and there was a big safe on the floor, facing up. It was left open and Maxwell stepped beside it, glancing at her excitedly and motioning for her to look inside.
She did and didn't know what she was looking at. Then it hit her and she froze up, feeling the sick sensation of needing to vomit and urinate at the same time.
"Where did you get that?" She said when she could.
"Doesn't matter right now if I told you. It would just be a name to you. A name without a face. Just know it's a whole lot better than Locke's." He looked up at her again, grinning, "Are you ready?"
"You want to use this? After Somalia?"
"Yes. Are you ready?"
She looked down at it again and felt the sensation return. How many of these were there out there? Better yet how many were in use? Did the Foundation have a few in lockup? Did the GOC? Did it matter? Neither were likely to use it.
"Sure," She said, starting to blink harder, face getting warmer. Her eyes burned and she began to grin like Maxwell, tears welling in her eyes as she started to make sounds between giddy laughter and tired sobs. "Yes! Yeah… Sure. Why not?"
surprise mothafucka!
Item #: SCP-5
Object Class: Unclassified
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-5 is not containable. SCP-5 Subject "Charles Locke" is kept in standard humanoid containment and to be monitored while sleeping. Should an SCP-5 event occur, further procedure is irrelevant.
Description: SCP-5 is an anomalous event instigated by individual Charles Locke in which the subject, while engaged in REM sleep, experiences a childhood memory belonging to another individual. Whilst experiencing this memory, the subject assumes the body and mind of the subject of the memory.
Following this event, the subject's "present" state causes a ██-class reality restructuring event, causing a temporal shift in which the planet's present date is "rewound" to the present date of the subject's new identity. All living things appear to follow suit, with individuals post-dating the new subject's date of birth appearing to become "unborn" and temporarily ceasing to exist.
All information on the effects of this anomaly have been gathered via interrogation of the subject and corroborated via information gleaned from SCP-5-A (originally SCP-5). Due to lack of additional sources of information, it is unknown if persons or events undone by SCP-5 repeat or become permanently lost.
Description: SCP-5 is an anomalous event instigated by individual Nasir abu Yusef (Subject declared deceased 05-26-2030), Vance Johnson (Subject declared deceased 09-01-1964), Charles Locke (Subject detained 04-29-2019) in which the subject, while engaged in REM sleep, experiences a childhood memory belonging to another individual. Whilst experiencing this memory, the subject (currently Charles Locke) assumes the body and mind of the subject of the memory.
Following this event, the subject's "present" state causes a ██-class reality restructuring event, causing a temporal shift in which the planet's present date is "rewound" to the present date of the subject's new identity (First confirmed 2/27/2011). All living things appear to follow suit, with individuals post-dating the new subject's date of birth appearing to become "unborn" and temporarily ceasing to exist.
All information on the effects of this anomaly have been gathered via interrogation of the subject and corroborated via information gleaned from SCP-5-A (originally SCP-5). Due to lack of additional sources of information, it is unknown if persons or events undone by SCP-5 repeat or become permanently lost.
Resources provided by the subject correspond with the 4-30-1951 recovery of SCP-████ (including audio and photographic images) as well as a high degree of familiarity with SCP-████ and former Site Director ███████. While the likelihood of this information being obtained via other means, the resources and information provided do appear to corroborate SCP-5's effects.
Original Outdated Description: SCP-5 is a partially preserved human body recovered in a sinkhole directly above the Floridan aquifer in Western Miami-Dade County. The body has undergone mummification as a result to exposure to an anomalous environment inconsistent with the local climate. The body was initially sealed in an anomalous area inside an alcove which caused it to be invisible to human eyes and impervious to environmental effects. [REDACTED] caused the anomalous area to become breached, fully revealing the body and exposing it to the environment, causing it to suffer some damage.
The body is that of a young adult male, estimated to be between 500 - 800 years old, dressed in faded denim jeans and a long-sleeved shirt of apparently modern make. The jeans are unmarked, and the shirt tag identifies it as [REDACTED] brand, made in Bangladesh, 100% cotton. The body was found holding a [REDACTED] brand composition book. Due to the threat posed by heat and humidity, SCP-5 has been moved to Site-304.
Much of the notebook found on SCP-5 is intact, with approximately 30 pages filled with modern English writing. A list of names is arranged vertically with years (ranging from "1701 AD" to "2099 AD") beside each name. The meaning behind this list is unknown, as most of the names have not been corroborated to any known persons, while any remaining matches have been dismissed as unrelated or coincidental. The last name in the list is that of a "Chucky P.", and below the name is written "seriously? Charles, you cuck".
Additional entries in the notebook appear to show repeated mathematical equations, including adding and subtracting years from dates, fragmentary biographical information on an assortment of individuals, and brief commentary on local events surrounding certain individuals (unnamed in the book).
Select contents of the notebook contain data (later confirmed by Locke under interrogation, despite the subject's previous denials) apparently confirming Locke to be the individual being discussed in the notebook. Mr. Locke has since refused to cooperate with Foundation personnel, and his continued presence in Foundation custody without another SCP-5 event cannot be quantified.
[DATA EXPUNGED]
Addendum-1: [DATA EXPUNGED]
Incident-5-1: Analyses made by Dr. Volkov, previously added to article as Addendum-1, have been purged from the record as it was discovered Dr. Volkov had knowingly included discredited information obtained via an interview with the subject, as well as the liberal inclusion of speculation. Additional details included in the addendum were found to be extraneous, irrelevant, and/or otherwise needlessly hostile towards Site Director Watson.
—
Interview of SCP-5 subject, conducted by Dr. Volkov, 08-16-2019
(Note: Portions of the interview have been edited for brevity.)
Dr. Volkov: I'm having trouble fully understanding.
Locke: What?
Dr. Volkov: You. Your condition, your ability. Superpower.
Locke: All I know is what you've told me.
Dr. Volkov: You remember talking to me as Mr. Abu Yusef
Locke: That's what you tell me.
Dr. Volkov: But that was in the future, which hasn't actually happened yet.
Locke: It's what you tell me.
Dr. Volkov: Who are you, then?
Locke: "I have existed since the morning of the world, and shall exist until the last star falls from the night. Although I have taken the form of Charles Locke, I am all men as I am no man, and therefore, I am a god!"
Dr. Volkov: A god?
Locke: No, not really. That's just a line from "Caligula". 1979. Malcolm McDowell. Pretty sure I was him, too.
Dr. Volkov: How sure?
Locke: Someone told me. Or maybe they said I sound like him. Sorry I've distracted you. What were you trying to understand?
Dr. Volkov: Hard to keep track of everything, chronologically.
Locke: Then start from your beginning.
Dr. Volkov: You… as someone, let's say—
Locke: Joe Shit the Ragman.
Dr. Volkov: Joe Shit goes to bed one night in 2012, and has a dream. Joe Shit's dream happens to be the childhood memories of someone else, let's say—
Locke: Joey Numbers.
Dr. Volkov: Now, Joe Shit teleports into baby Joey Numbers' body, and becomes Joey Numbers. And now the year is 1975 and Joe Shit never existed. Joe Shit, Joe Shit's dog, Joe Shit's neighbor, Joe Shit's ex-girlfriend, none of them exist. Or they do exist, if they were born before 1975.
Locke: That's what [you] tell me.
Dr. Volkov: Now Joey Numbers grows up, it's 1991, and Joey has another dream of another person's childhood. Joey wakes up as baby George and it's 1959. Baby George grows up and has another "memory dream" in 1980, and Georgie wakes up as little Vance Johnson and it's 1926.
Locke: Does he?
Dr. Volkov: Now, I sit here in 2019, I go on the web, I look through libraries, whatever, and I find out that Joe Shit, Joey Numbers, George, and Vance in fact all existed and were real people. Maybe some of them even met; maybe Joey Numbers was a student in Old Man George's class. Maybe they never met each other at all.
Locke: [Dramatically] They were the same person!
Dr. Volkov: You were the same person.
Locke: If you say so.
Dr. Volkov: No, I don't say so. You said so. And your friend said so, through his notebook.
Locke: Okay. Why are you talking to me, then?
Dr. Volkov: How do you do it?
Locke: Close my eyes and wait for sleep.
Dr. Volkov: You don't control it? You don't… pick someone to change into? Pick how long ago it was? Based on what I've seen in the notebook, it looks like you only ever go back a few decades. Forty, fifty, sixty years. Sometimes as few as twenty or fifteen. Sometimes you're co-existing as one person with the person you later become.
Locke: Maybe everyone is actually me.
Dr. Volkov: Everyone where?
Locke: Maybe everyone is me. Maybe I came from the end of time, dreamt I was a lonely boy in a house on Mars. Then maybe I became that boy and dreamt I was a boy on Earth living around the same time, and became him. Maybe I keep going back far enough, and I've actually lived as everyone.
Dr. Volkov: How far in the future did you come?
Locke: I said "maybe", I don't know. I only know what you all tell me.
Dr. Volkov: People die, though. What happens when you die?
Locke: Want to find out?
Dr. Volkov: I can't let anything happen to you.
Locke: Apparently you already have, if I am Vance Johnson, like you say.
Dr. Volkov: I'm trying to piece this together from what you tell me, and what your boy tells us in 30 half-written, rambling pages.
Locke: If you say so. Oh, hey, you know that guy who comes by to chew people out around here?
Dr. Volkov: Who? Erikson? Fergus? Watson? Veles?
Locke: Watson. He's a cuck.
Dr. Volkov: What?
(Note: Subject refuses to continue, and refuses all further interview requests)
Addendum-1: SCP-5 re-contained as subject, now Nasir Abu Yusef, was located and taken into Foundation custody on ██-██-2030. Subject was able to recount the interview conducted by Dr. Volkov with then-subject Charles Locke on 8-16-2019, although they could not confirm that they were in fact then-subject Charles Locke. Despite the subject's good health, they displayed significant physical and mental deficiencies, including chronic knee pain (could not be confirmed via X-ray or MRI scans), memory loss, fatigue, and asthma. Subject appeared to be unusually agitated over some of the contents of the interview with Charles Locke, and began repeating "who's a cuck?" until falling asleep.
—
Unauthorized personnel will see an end of file here
Further expunged information has been retained at the request of O5-█, against the wishes of Site Director Watson, and O5-██ and O5-█. Contents are restricted to Level 5 personnel until a decision has been made regarding their complete and total removal
The continued operation of this site and the maintenance of SCP-5 is, at best, utterly frivolous. At any moment SCP-5 will cease to exist, and something else will take its place, possibly with a different numeric designation and a different research staff assigned to it. "Charles Locke" is a name as meaningless as my own, easily replaceable, as is my own.
The Foundation saw fit to hide from me some of the contents of the notebook found on SCP-5-ARC. 30 pages were written in, but the rest were not empty; every other one of the maybe 170 pages were stuffed with printouts, stapled in to the book, making it bulge twice as thick as it should be.
Every one of the page printouts was the article for SCP-5. The numbers sometimes changed, the names often changed, some instances were filled in with unusual observations or references to some nonexistent agencies or operations. All of them describe the exact same anomaly described here, to varying degrees of understanding, almost always as a result of finding the exact same body.
The names and dates had no direct pattern. Millie Gaines, 1947. Vance Johnson, 1964. Ellie Highler, 1956. Carolinis Nora, 1970. Juan Almorado, 2058. Jane Buck, 2005. Milton Sykes, 1979. Nasir Abu Yusef, 2030. Those were some of the articles that stood out the most, the most unique stories or curious details. It makes it easier to remember them.
Honestly I'm not mad. I can see why they saw fit to hide these articles from me. I don't know how I would've reacted had I found out. Still, it feels a little bit personal that they should have kept it from me even to the very end. They probably should have re-copied the written parts, at the very least, and destroyed the original, but they didn't. Their mistake; I happen to have very distinctive handwriting.
From the office of O5-1, Jakob Volkov.
- everyone is one person re-living every life at once.
- every so often, a noun personplaceorthing happens. Someone becomes "aware" and does something in which they are able to witness someone else's childhood memory. Then they manage to infiltrate the memory and become that person at that point in time. The Earth's "time" is re-set to that point in time as the person (now subject) grows up living a new life as someone completely different. At any given moment in adulthood, they can undergo the process again, witness another person's childhood memory, and replace that person, further "rewinding" the Earth.
- In effect, the Earth can essentially end up re-playing the same time period for trillions of years.
- Through some grinding, the subject can push the "rewinding" of Earth further back. For example, if they were 50 in the year 2000, replace someone who was a child in 1980, then "rewind" again in 1996 to someone who was a child in 1964, then "rewind" as an adult in 1988 and go back to someone who was a child in 1921, then "rewind" as an adult in 1945 to someone who was a child in 1898, and so on.
- Theoretically, this could indicate that all humans who have lived or ever will live are actually only one person, who has been constantly doing this anomalous event, taking over someone else's life, and "rewinding" the entire planet.
- Questioning runs wild, does this mean this is the origin of life? Is this how human life has always been? Or was this a true anomalous event which occurred billions of years ago and has completely frozen up the development (or extinction) of the human race by re-playing the lives of every human over and over and over again? If this is a natural event that has always happened, then doesn't this mean this is not an anomaly? But what if our discovery of it is anomalous?
Priscilla Locke.
Name:
Profession:
Profile:
Alleged to be a Foundation agent of an alternate timeline. A transgender high school student matching the description of "Agent Locke" was reported missing in 1996. Her remains were recovered and identified by former MCF Director and sibling Rhiannon Locke. Ms. Locke claimed no knowledge of recent sightings of Priscilla Locke or her alleged involvement with the Manna Charitable Foundation. "Agent Locke" may or may not be in possession of Foundation property and an as-of-yet unrecovered anomalous object referred to as "Anabasis".
Rhiannon Locke.
Name:
Profession:
Profile:
J. Jonathan Kone.
Name:
Profession: Undersecretary for Africa operations
Profile:
"Spiffy Dodger".
Name:
Profession: Health thing
Profile:
Former Manna Charitable Foundation operative. Current affiliation and whereabouts unknown. Key figure in the MCF-backed investigation of a group of interest known as "The Stuff Industry". She is believed to have had previous dealings with the Foundation, either under an alias or through a third party source. Described variously as being tall, short, red-haired, blue-haired, blonde, "beautiful", and variously missing an eye, nose, or teeth. Only certainties are that she is narcissistic and insufferably annoying, and always manages to avoid getting arrested.
Caecilia Cortes.
Name:
Profession: MCF person
Profile:
KNOWN ASSOCIATES
The following individuals have been identified as cronies associates to Dr. Halo and frequently appear on-site wherever an SCP handled by her is located.
Dr. Jaime Marlowe.
Name: Dr. Jaime Marlowe
Profession: Researcher
Security Clearance Level: [DATA EXPUNGED]
Profile: [LEVLE 066 REQURED] Average researcher, specializing in space-time, extra-dimensional, and visual, spatial, and cognitohazardous anomalies. Previously described as "painfully, painfully, painfully average", notable more for minor interpersonal incidents and inappropriate outbursts when under stress. Marlowe's profile has slightly increased due to apparent unexplained connections to unrelated anomalous events which only appear to have increased in frequency.
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Dr. Hessia Prynn.
Name: Dr. Hessia Prynn
Profession: Researcher, dumbass sent in to touch strange new SCPs first volunteer test subject
Security Clearance Level: Level 3
Profile: [REDACTED] pending lawsuit
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Dr. Shi Mingxia.
Name: Dr. Shi Mingxia
Profession: Researcher
Security Clearance Level: Level 3
Profile: [DATA EXPUNGED] "OH MY GOD WHAT DID YOU DO?!" were the very last words found.
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Agent M██ H███████.
Name: Agent M██ H███████
Profession: Agents of SCP Foundation
Security Clearance Level: 05 and such
Profile: Agent M██ H███████ is the agent of the SCP F-F-F-Foundation. M██ H███████ also rea-rea-rea-rea-rea-reads all of SCP Foundation's articles. Agent M██-M██ H███████ is the Foundation. [DATA EXPU-EXPU-EXPUNGED]
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Dr. Sagan.
Name: Dr. Carl Sagan
Profession: Astrophysicist
Security Clearance Level: All of them
Profile: [REDACTED FOR BREVITY] And ever since then, all Foundation personnel have recognized that he was a nice guy.
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Dr. Sobotka.
Name: Dr. Anna Sobotka
Profession: Eater of Dreams
Security Clearance Level: 4.8
Profile: Do you like [DATA EXPUNGED]ing other people?
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- SCP-093
- SCP-603
- SCP-1981
- SCP-1427 Holy fuck what
- SCP-1279 Yes this is Doge
- SCP-255
- SCP-610
- SCP-140
- SCP-2998
- SCP-1173
- SCP-1733
- SCP-1250 Holy fuck what
- SCP-1115
- SCP-507
- SCP-173-J
- SCP-087
- SCP-1370
- The entire Class of 76 canon
- SCP-1437
- SCP-004
- SCP-914
- SCP-789-J
- SCP-1322
- SCP-586
- SCP-001-EX-J
- SCP-2299 (My own)
- SCP-1692 (My own)
- SCP-1425
- SCP-329-J
- SCP-006-J
- SCP-186
- SCP-1986
- SCP-028
- SCP-176
- SCP-315
- SCP-698
- SCP-1234-J
- SCP-752
- SCP-776
- SCP-887
- SCP-939
- SCP-940
- SCP-1070
- SCP-1085
- SCP-1116
- SCP-1256
- Pastry based aquatic life form - P13F15H
- SCP-1284
- SCP-1287 Despite the sappy ass last note
- SCP-1309
- SCP-1312 It is greats
- SCP-1345
- SCP-1351
- SCP-1375
- SCP-1377
- SCP-1442
- SCP-2322
- SCP-1583
- SCP-1598
- SCP-1599
- SCP-1606
- SCP-4991
- SCP-4048
- SCP-3008
- SCP-6830
- SCP-3956
- SCP-4833
- Any article mentioning Class-D genocide (aside from being morally repugnant in so many directions at once, it's physically impossible to sustain without causing severe population drops around the world)
- Any SCP that essentially could exist in reality without being anomalous—such as, new species of animals that act oddly, but not too extraordinary. A bird with four wings isn't anomalous; it's a fascinating new discovery.
- SCP-627
- SCP-318
- SCP-743
- SCP-2085
- SCP-1074
- SCP-1082
- SCP-1083
- SCP-1100
- SCP-1208
- SCP-1258 Come on, that was fucking stupid
- SCP-1299 Fucking repugnant
- SCP-1324 Sappy trite fucking trash
- SCP-1325
- SCP-2717 Repugnant and revolting beyond belief
- SCP-3955
- SCP-3986
