Item #: SCP-XXXX-J
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: to be added later
SCP-XXXX defies description, because it’s description changes every day. At midnight, local time, SCP-XXXX will change into a new form. Any form is possible, though unusual or paranormal forms are unlikely. For example, SCP-XXXX is much more likely to turn into a can of soup than a rampaging tiger armed with mounted machine guns. (note: keep in mind that example is still a possibility, and counter-measures for angry and armed tigers are in place).
Addendum: (not complete)
Forms of SCP-1953: (by senior researcher John Harris)
1. Stuffed bear. Brought into site-110 as possible anomalous item.
2. SCP- [REDACTED]. The cause of the destruction of site-110. Footage of the event was found a couple days later.
3. A brick. Was found in the wreckage of site-110, and taken due to a brick being very suspicious in a building that was made out of concrete and metal. Brick taken to [REDACTED], a more secure testing facility.
First day of testing: according the info I received, the brick is the possible cause of the destruction of site-110. However, for all I can see, it’s just a freaking brick.
4. A piece of paper. The paper is blank.
The object changes! That would be interesting, if the Foundation didn’t already have a couple hundred shape-shifting SCP’s.
5. A pencil that writes like a pen:
This is possibly the most boring SCP ever. I recommend this SCP for termination.
6. A pencil that makes the holder happy: effect comparable to cocaine.
I changed my mind. I think I like this SCP.
7. A pencil that instantly kills the person who touches it. No effect was observed on animals.
Researcher Johnson was eager to touch this after his previous experience with form-6. A great example of why testing on D-class should always be done first. I’ll miss yah, Johnson. Also, I recommend the SCP for termination again.
8. An advanced battery: about 1 year more advanced than Foundation technology. Battery now in use in some Foundation devices. The design for the battery will be leaked to the public as soon as the object is no longer suspiciously advanced beyond public prototypes.
This seems useful. I’m still for terminating it, though.
9. Gas of some sort. Gas escaped through the air vents.
Oh fuck. It just disappeared!
10. Unknown form in the vents above the cafeteria.
Fuck fuck fuck! Where the hell is it?
11. A giant boulder. It ripped through the vents and landed in the cafeteria, fortunately resulting in no deaths.
Thank god I found it, and no-one was injured either. However, this is a worrisome display of size changing. If SCP-1953 can transform into a boulder, what’s to stop it from transforming into a mountain? A giant asteroid? A planet? A black hole? This SCP needs to be destroyed at all costs, or, at least moved to a larger containment cell. Tomorrow I will implement operation overkill; this might solve my problem.
12. A teddy-bear. In accordance with operation overkill, team ALPHA-5 (nicknamed “the SCP disposal team”) was given permission to use any means available to destroy SCP-1953. The teddy-bear was shot 84 times with armor-piercing bullets, chain sawed in half, and then incinerated with flamethrower. Finally, the ashes were encased in a box of 2-meter thick concrete.
Wow, the SCP disposal team really doesn’t mess around.
13. No visual change was seen at midnight. X-ray analysis failed due to thickness of concrete.
I’d like to imagine that SCP-1953 is dead, but it is probably still there… waiting… biding its time. It would probably be for the best if the box was never opened.
14. No apparent change.
Just to make sure that SCP-1953 is dead, I decided to subject it to psychological torture. For the remainder of the day, all employees and D-class subjects are encouraged to make bad puns in the presence of SCP-1953.
15. No apparent change.
I know it’s still in there. I’ve recently taken to the habit of watching it while stroking my shotgun, it calms my nerves.
16. The concrete box cracked in several places and a slight increase in radiation was recorded.
It’s still there. IT’S STILL THERE! WE’RE ALL DOOMED. DOOMED I SAY! DOOOOMMEEDD!
17. No change recorded
The stress of SCP-1953 (also my first assignment as head researcher) had gotten to me and I went a bit bonkers. After a short mandatory vacation, I feel a lot better. Still worried about SCP-1953 destroying the world along with the entire human race, but I should’ve expected that when I signed up for a job with a secret shadow government/paranormal monster-hunting organization.
18. No change recorded
I figure I might as well see what’s in there, as that is a lot better than just waiting around till some horrible creature bursts out, escapes through the ventilation shaft, and eats us all (Why the heck do we have such large ventilation shafts, anyways? They are the perfect size for a spy/monster to hide in, and the only use I can think of for them would be something ridiculous like delivering large amounts of neurotoxin. Actually, that’s probably exactly what they are for. I think I am sort of disturbed now. I’m going to open the box tomorrow and go back to my stress-relief therapy for the rest of the day).
19. A hissing can be heard from the cracks in the box.
Definitely not opening the box today. I’ll do it tomorrow, for sure.
20. The hissing stopped. The box was opened through use of a remote-operated jack-hammer. A rabbit was found inside.
Bad: SCP-1953 has survived, and continues to change forms.
Good: SCP-1953 hasn’t destroyed the world yet.
21. A 6 feet tall insectoid. Insectoid contains unusual changes to its biology to support its great size, as well as titanium that was incorporated into its claws. It has the ability to turn invisible, this power coming from an anomalous bend in the laws of physics (aka magic). Due to the nature of the subject all tissue samples disappeared at midnight to form the next variation.
What the SCP log doesn’t mention is how close this thing came to killing us all. When the thing appeared, it immediately rushed us and smacked into the bulletproof glass of the viewing window. That would’ve been funny, if it hadn’t started clawing its way straight through the glass. I quickly decided to send some armed guards to “greet it” (with several hundred bullets). The 4-man team went through the airlock to get to the cell. Meanwhile, my research assistants briefed the team on the nature of the creature, describing it as the “scariest god-damn creature we have ever seen”. I kept an eye on the insect, nervously eyeing the gaping hole the insect was creating in the glass. However, as soon as the cell door started opening, the insectoid turned around and vanished into thin air. My jaw dropped open as I was rendered speechless. The three guards slowly went into the cell. Guard 1 looked left. Nothing. Guard 2 –right – nothing. 3 – forward - nothing. Guard 4 even inspected the celling. There was only a slight swaying of the hanging light. Fury covered 4’s face, and he threw his weapon down in disgust.
“There’s nothing here! What is this, some kind of joke? You sick bastards, you nearly gave me a heart attack!”
My mind snapped back into action. There were 3 possibilities:
1. The Insectoid had never really been there. It was just a ghost / illusion / 2 guys in an invisible insect suit
2. The Insectoid had just teleported somewhere. This would be bad. Very bad.
3. The Insectoid had become invisible and was slowly creeping up on the guards while I was speechless like only the most cliché horror movie characters can be.
I looked straight at the guards and yelled in panic: “The insect is invisible! SHOOT EVERYTHING!”
The guards fired at will.
Too late, I realized my mistake. The guards were facing us, meaning the bullets would come in our direction. Fortunately, there was bulletproof glass between us and the guards. As bullets started slamming into the glass, I realized my second mistake. “Bulletproof” glass isn’t actually bulletproof; it’s just bullet-resistant. The glass held just long enough for me to duck under a counter before it shattered under the wild hail of bullets. The bullets hissed into the room, destroying sensitive equipment with angry crashes, ricocheting of metal surfaces, and blasting the overhead light into oblivion. The emergency lights kicked into action, adding a flashing blood-red to the muzzle flashes, creating a nasty strobe light effect. This went on until the guards had used up every single round in their magazine. A series of clicks announced this, as well as an eerie silence. I got up and surveyed the damage. The monitoring room had been practically destroyed, and the cell was covered in bulletmarks. However, the insect was nowhere to be seen. I realized that there was one other possibility that I had missed when I was thinking the situation through. The insectoid had crawled along the CEILING of the cell and was sitting directly above the guards right now.
“The insect is right above – WWWWWEEEEEEEOOOOOOOO WWWEEEEEEOOOOOOOOO”
The alarm siren had picked a most inopportune time to kick in. The guards looked at me quizzically, wondering what I had said.
Then the insect descended.
An explosion of blood burst out as the insect took two guards down with a whirlwind of claws. The remaining guards frantically tried to reload their guns, running away from the insect. One guard ran into the airlock and pulled the emergency lever. The cell door slammed down with a couple tons of force, but the insect had already leapt at the guard, the door falling right behind it. The other guard gave a primal scream and a burst of gunfire at the insect, but the door was already closed. The guard trapped inside the airlock with the insect was doomed. All of us stood for a while in shock at this whole nightmare, all of which had taken place in under a minute. I turned around to address my research assistants, only to discover that all of them had either fled, judging by the open door, or were lying on the floor bleeding. I sighed. The guard strolled past me to the control panel.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Seeing what happened to Charlie.”
She peered at the airlock video feed and grimaced.
“That… thing… is eating him.”
“Oh good. Well, not good. But better than it clawing its way into the air ducts.”
“I’ll take care of it. Open the cell door and I’ll blast that bug full of holes.”
“That would be fantastic, but for all we know the bug could be bulletproof, or can only be banished with a pint of virgin’s blood on the second week of September.”
“Well then, how the hell do we get rid of it?”
“I have a plan.”
But first, I checked a calendar on the wall for the date.
“That’s your plan? You’re going to banish it?!” The guard looked at me incredulously.
“Don’t be silly. This is a leap year, the banishment would never work. I have a backup plan. Stay here. Keep an eye on the insect and tell me if it tries going into the vents. I need to get something. ”
I ran out of the room and down the corridor. The corridor was totally empty, thankfully, as all the smart people had immediately fled the area as soon as the alarm went off. This gave me the space I needed to run down the hallways at top speed, humming the mission impossible theme song all the while. I jumped over a cart left in the middle of the hallway, and finally reached my destination. The fabled senior staff bathrooms! Legend among the researcher peasants was that it was filled with extravagant devises, gold-plated toilets, and a secret elevator. This totally ridiculous, of course. Except for the elevator part, that was why I was heading to the bathrooms in the first place. The elevators were vital to getting to my destination ASAP. I burst into the senior staff bathrooms, but the elevator doors at the back of the bathroom were already closing! Time seemed to slow down as I put on an extra burst of speed that would make Usain Bolt proud, sliding into the elevator at the very last second. The elevator doors closed with a ding, leaving me and the stranger in the elevator in silence. Elevator music started playing as the lift accelerated upwards.
“Who are you?” The stranger asked.
“Provisional Senior Researcher John Harris, Sir” Something in the stranger’s steely eyes indicated that he a senior staff of higher rank, and would not be happy with a delinquent invading his elevator.
“What’s your business?”
“Getting weaponry to destroy a giant insect, sir. It’s true, I swear”
“I believe you. Senior staff are doing crap like that all the time. Gets boring after a while, trust me. Heck, yesterday I had to destroy a 50-foot marshmallow man. What a mess …”
We stood there for a while in awkward silence, listening to the elevator music. The elevator decelerated as it reached my destination
“Well, looks like this is my stop. Hopefully you’ll see me again, if not, I’ll probably be insect food”
I saluted and stepped off the elevator, into a small dimly lit cavern, with a gigantic blast door on the other end being the only distinguishing feature. I approached the door and entered in a code on the keypad nearby. With a groan, the door slowly withdrew. Brilliant light shone from within, illustrating rows upon rows of weaponry. “Hallelujah!” I exclaimed. These were no ordinary weapons. These were SCP WEAPONRY. Magical Weapons confiscated because of being extraordinarily dangerous, impractical, utterly insane, and usually a combination of all 3. With these weapons you could atomize a tank, take down a Navy Seal team with impunity, and even topple a small nation, Compared to all that, killing a 6-foot tall invisible murder machine is a walk in the park. Armed with one of these babies, the question is not IF I can kill the insect, it’s WHEN I’ll kill it. I started browsing the rows of weaponry, rubbing my hands in glee. Finding the right weapon, however, was harder than I thought:
“Tank in Box” – Either this is a miniature tank (useless) or a full-sized tank would somehow appear when you opened the box. Full-sized tank + small hallway = bad
“Death Ray” – Awesome, but I could all too easily imagine the ray going through the insect and creating a gaping hole in every wall in its path, either frying some poor intern or unleashing a couple more SCP’s. Also, the description says it has to be hand-cranked to charge.
“The Knife” - I can literally feel evil emitting from this, don’t know how that’s even possible, but I’m not going anywhere near that thing.
My browsing was cut short by the walkie-talkie on my belt.
“Sir… the insect appears to be attacking the vent cover”
“Don’t worry, I’ve planned for this instance. All you have to do is to press the open door button -”
“ are you crazy?”
“ – and press the close door button right before the insect escapes. If you do it successfully it will attract the insects attention away from the vent.”
“That sounds ….. risky. I’ll try my best, just get here as fast as possible.”
I grabbed a random weapon from the shelves and sprinted back to the elevator. As I ran I looked down to see what I had grabbed:
“Lipstick of Death”