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Item #: SCP-YEET
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-Yeet is to be housed within a miniaturised humanoid containment chamber within Site-40.
Description: (Small humanoid, no skin, massive claws on hands, 4 extra limbs growing from its back like segmented tentacles ending in big claws. Digitigrade legs. Head has no eyes, just flat bone and a snub nose with a big mouth. Can shoot smoke from its hands and mouth. Is harmless
The sword is the key, the stone is the lock. Should they be seperated the WYRM shall enter the world and plunge it into fire and death. Ever do servans of the WYRM seek to retrieve the sword from the stone, and thus the 13 chosen protectors formed so that this might never come to pass.
The order was originally the followers of the knight, and after his death in banishing the WYRM, remained to guard it against the WYRMs followers. They built a citadel around the sword to guard it from those the WYRM could enthrall.
Do they have one follower contained, who has grown worse over time?
How to work it towards 5000, and mystery?
- Prophesy that when the Library burns, Flesh and Machine become one, The Dark shall claim the sword?
- Explain why dragons are in so many cultures
- Solve the mystery of excalibur
Item #: SCP-5000
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures:
Site-UR was originally constructed around the sword in the stone, and has been updated over the years to maintain containment site standards. the sword in the stone is kept on the top of a pedestal over a deep pit. There is a retractable bridge that can be used to access it. the sword must be tightly chained so it can't be wiggled out of the stone. Only level 4+ dudes can get in. Armed guards who score high on anti-coercion tests will guard it and shoot any unauthorised folks who approach.
Research is conducted into the origins of the stone and of Sir Osmund Smythe, with global surveillance for people who have dreams about the specific dragon in question, and those people amnestisised if it isn't too late. Termination if it is too late. Research is to be made into ways of forcing the sword further back into the stone, and to ascertain similarities between it and other scps.
staff are to be rotated so the effects of being around the sword aren't permanent, snake and pest removal guys are to hang round to catch and relocate reptiles that show up. Stores of various antivenins are to kept around
as of some time, the room is lined in telekill?
Description:
scp-xxx is a large two-handed sword, similar in form to venetian swords from the 16th century that has been driven into a large (9m tall, 3.5m wide at the base, 40cm at the top) granite stone via unknown means. the stone is covered in carvings and sigils in various languages and it anomalously hard. It has been pulled halfway out. It used the original Excalibur/ Joyeuse to be reforged into the new one in an effort to face the returned threat after their magic wore off.
People within a certain radius of the sword (19 or 40km?) are susceptible to feelings of enhanced greed, anger/ irritability, pyromania and megalomania. This effect can be mitigated by counselling, but after a long enough time can't be reversed. this time co-incides with the formation of severe ichthyosis over the entire body. This can be mitigated by surrounding the sword with telekill.
In addition to this, various reptiles will spontaneously manifest within the same area of effect. these were initially believed to be exclusively native animals, but following a 2005 manifestation of several komodo dragons and tiger snakes this is no longer the case.
the further the sword is pulled from the stone, the more severe the above effects become. This is the result of the sword funtioning as a seal, keeping an entity refferred to as The WYRM, henceforth referred to as SCP-XXXX-1, out of this reality. Translation of text on the stone has shown that full removal of the sword will allow the wyrm to enter our reality. It is believed that this would result in an XK class end of the world scenario.
SCP-XXXX-1 has the ability to manifest itself within the dreams of people across the globe, seemingly at random. these dreams typically follow the narrative of the dreamer witnessing SCP-XXXX-1 immolating a city familiar to them in flame, before landing upon it and addressing the dreamer. It will attempt to coerce them into going to site 40, where the sword is located, and to draw it from the stone. It will do so by promising the dreamer power, riches and stuff, or by threatening them with great violence if they won't. These dreams are recurring, and coincide with the generation of feelings of enhanced greed, anger/ irritability, pyromania and megalomania. In all cases, these dreams result in either the dreamer becoming an instance of SCP-XXXX-2, or by the dreamer spontaneously combusting within 5-9 weeks of the dreams beginning. This process can be stopped by administering class o amnestics to the individual in question.
Instances of SCP-XXXX-2 are individuals who have become anomalously strong and durable, along with having the ability to emit intense blasts of fire from their throats. All instances have displayed a knowledge of the location of SCP-XXXX and a strong desire to remove it from the stone. These individuals have proven capable of lifting over 3000kg overhead, and surviving multiple gunshots. All instances violently combust upon death.
SCP-XXXX-2 instances have proven to be getting stronger and more durable over time. One wasn't human.
Addendum:
History of the sword, the knight and the WYRM as detailed on the carvings on the stone. A knight who was like a hero king guy witnessed the WYRM come from the sky and lay waste to a city. the knight, now believed to have been anomalous themself, gathered excalibur, joyeuse and Durendal and had them forged together to make a new sword, dubbed X. He used this sword to battle the WYRM for 40 days and nights, laying waste to the nation of X in the process. Finally, the knight was able to use the sword to banish the WYRM from our world, sealing the banishment by plunging the sword deep into a stone with his dying breath.
Following this, the knights followers and companions built a temple around the sword and the stone, defending it from followers of the WYRM so that it may never return.
Addendum 2:
Interview of the WYRM conducted in a dream by an on site researcher. Hamm it up.
Quote ideas
- "I am the source of all that burns! Did you really believe oppenheimer able to conjure my fires on his own? No no, His little cherry bombs are merely a venting of my domain."
- "I am the one who shall reign over the blasted remains of this reality! I have laid low Fey and Destroyer and Darkness alike, and shall be he who lays low the kings, both hanging and crimson. I will burn that wretched library and all shall turn to the ashes that nourish my fires!"
NOTES
talking with ihp I've come up with a potentially viable idea for a dragon scp
In this case, the dragon is more of an eldritch abomination, and is trapped in another realm
there is a key, which is a sword in a stone, but if it's removed the dragon can get in
as the sword cannot be pushed back into the stone, and at this point its half removed
People who have no way of knowing where it is keep showing up trying to pull the sword from the stone
they shouldn't be strong enough, but they are
since the sword is half out, in the containment room you can hear the dragon slithering about, you can hear it breathing and it might appear in reflections within the site
It appears in some peoples dreams, whispering for them to remove the sword
promising them power, promising that they'll be spared
Visions generally have it surrounded by fire, enormous, and maybe it mentions coming to fight its brother and tying it to 3000
<Balthazaar> A sword, right
but every time to swing it, (Or cut with it or something) a great and terrible dragone comes closer to manifesting, and can only be killed by that sword
and maybe in the containment chamber they can hear the dragon breathing and moving around
in the right light they can even catch a glimpse of it, and it's ENORMOUS
I wanna write a dragon
but just a straight up dragon is possibly too simple
Maybe the sword is the anomaly, and the dragon isn't "A dragon" but "The Dragon" that resides elsewhere, and something something sword, right? and it's getting closer to entering our world
Maybe its a sword in a stone
and if it's pulled all the way out the dragon comes
but like
people keep coming and trying to pull it out of the stone
they have no way of knowing where it is, and they shouldn't be able to get in, shouldn't be strong enough to remove the sword
but they are and they do
and they've realised that they can't push it further back in, and it's sayyy
halfway our
and when they interrogate and examine people who came in to get it, they say some disturbingstuff
like when the foundation is all "It may not be prepared to handle what we can throw at it" and the people are all "where do you think the power of radiation comes from? your nukes simply draw power from the dragon"
Dr Tony Morissons Proposal, re: Updating Containment Procedures For SCP-4715
Dr Tony Morrison sat brooding at his cluttered workstation deep within Area 4715-23, glaring at the email from Area Director Steven Roberts sitting on his screen. He couldn't believe the nerve of dismissing his meticulously crafted thesis as being "Impractical" and "Short sighted." Could he not see the hard evidence before him? Maybe that was it, maybe he had simply misunderstood. To check, Morrison poured over the main focus of his paper, hoping to see where he might have failed to convey his point.
It has been noted that following the successful implementation of the current Special Containment Procedures that SCP-4715's weight has been observed to fluctuate when held in containment for a significant duration. This is believed to be entirely unrelated to its size altering abilities, as fluctuations coincide with shifts in the global political climate. This was first observed when SCP-4715 was noted to have lost >28% of its body mass in a period of 24 hours on the on the 5/9/2006, coinciding with the signing of the Waziristan accord, ending hostilities in North-West Pakistan. The subject was noted as appearing noticeably unwell1. and being in a highly agitated state for 21 hours following the signing of the treaty, leading to it breaching containment2
Similarly, the subjects muscle mass was observed to increase by 19% on the 15/3/2011 in the hours following the beginning of the Syrian civil war, and has continued to increase as the conflict escalated. This has been exacerbated by the outbreak of various armed conflicts since 20113, leading to a steady increase in SCP-4715s muscle mass and overall well-being. As such additional containment measures must be implemented. It is hypothesised that this effect had not been observed prior to the implementation of current Special Containment Procedures due to a newfound lack of exposure to situations of conflict, as a result of the drastically reduced number of Containment breaches.
No, no he definitely hadn't left anything out. If anything he didn't know how to be any clearer. 4715 feeds on violence, including armed conflicts across the globe. So logically they needed to starve it out. Putting an end to armed conflicts was well within the Foundations power, and it would help a lot of people. If anything the potential neutralisation of 4715 would just be a nice little bonus on top of a job well done.
He sat back, shaking his head and running his hands through his hair in frustration. His colleagues looked over in idle curiosity, uncomfortable expressions on their faces as they saw him glaring back at them. It wasn't them that he was irritated with, of course, but the Site Director refusing to see the merit in his plan. It wasn't their fault they didn't quite know how to treat him after the last breach, nor was it their fault that he irrationally resented their pity. After he proved the merit of his proposal things would surely be different at least. Their pity for him and his trauma would turn to gratitude. "Thank goodness Morrison realised its only interested in combatants, not terrified onlookers." They would think. "Thank goodness he figured it all out." Then all the blood spilled on that awful day would finally mean something.
He thought back to that day. It had started more or less normally, riding 20 minutes down the access elevators to get to work, having coffee in the morning, running the standard checks on the containment chambers and setting about their research. Morrison had been looking into 4715s weight loss and weight gain over its time in containment, having yet to understand what caused this, but was called with the rest of staff to the observation room to observe the waning moon ritual. He hated watching this, spending each time worrying about the person performing the ritual. This time was no different to start with, the muscular man carrying that huge basket of meat on his back, annointed with ritual markings that half the team was still working on discerning the meaning of.
The procedure had gone off without anything unusual happening. Even the D-Class being eaten at the end of it wasn't exactly odd, even if it was upsetting to watch. What was unusual was the resinfratoxin spay failing to deploy as the creature tore its way through the blast doors. What followed after that had mostly become something of a blur to Morrison. Despite his training, he had panicked and fled to the toilets, hiding in a stall. He could hear the gunfire, the screams and the roars. Eventually he had come to his senses and begun trying to get to the safety of one of the staff shelters. He'd been found heading there by a security agent. He found out later that her name had been Felicia Sutherland and that she left behind a fiance and three dogs.
She was bloodsoaked and fairly wide eyed as she dragged him towards the shelter. They were nearly there when the monster exploded around the corner, its jet black fur smouldering from the re containment efforts presented to it thus far and its small eyes quickly focusing on both him and Sutherland. He had never seen a living thing move across a room so quickly. Sutherland tried to defend both Morrison and herself, but the hail of bullets barely managed to burst its left eyeball let alone stop it before it fell upon her. He was showered in the security agent, frantically crabwalking away from the escaped creature.
What he remembers best is locking eyes with the creature immediately after, watching its damaged eye reform even as it shoot the remnants of Sutherlands arm out of its teeth. They looked at each other for a long moment, before it roared and fled down the corridor, soon to be met by the sound of gunfire. Morrison had sat cradling Sutherlands remains for what he was told was five hours after the breach. He had been told that nineteen additional security agents had also been killed, and more injured. He was collected in the cleanup after 4715 was returned to the chambers, and was immediately offered counseling or amnestic treatment. He felt that to forget would be disrespectful, and he couldn't have that
At least it had helped form his hypothesis though. It clearly hadn't attacked him as well because he had no intention of trying to hurt the thing, only to hide. It was so obvious. Of course his therapist insisted it likely was more interested in finding the exit, as did his colleagues, but Morrison knew better. He'd spent weeks writing his proposal, trying to show that by disarming the site and putting an end to war across the globe that they could safely contain 4715 with no site casualties. Hell, it might even starve to death.
And yet despite this, Site Director Roberts had rejected the proposal, saying that he sympathised with him, but that it simply wasn't feasible and that given 4715s nature, it would inevitably escape to the surface. Then, to add insult to injury, he schedules an evaluation. It was degrading and offensive. It meant that Morrison would need to prove that he was right.
He stood up abruptly, hurriedly turning and stumbling out of his workstation, catching his balance and making his way out of the bullpen towards the toilets. His coworkers hardly looked up from their research and conversations. They were well accustomed to Morrisons frequent excursions to the bathrooms after all. He rounded a few bends, and it was only when he found himself at observation window B that he realised that he had no intention of going to the bathroom. Instead, he stood at the window, staring at 4715 and thinking about the experiment he was allowed to conduct shortly after his return to work.
Admittedly it had been talked about before. He doubted that Roberts would have allowed him to conduct the experiment at all otherwise. The results worked well with his theory. By lobotomising a D-Class, they removed his capability to even consider harming anything. Sending him in was a good test to see how their charge reacted to entirely peaceful beings. He remembered what it was like, watching the orange suited fool bumble into the cell from this very observation port. He remembered seeing the man stumble over to the wall and slump against it, looking curiously at the creature that was pacing about the cell. More than that, he remembered how for the following six hours the SCP had totally ignored the D-Class. And yet Roberts, that long haired prick Harrison, even his friend Doddson had put the results down to the d-class no longer being sentient. What an absurd susgestion! He was still a human, after all!
It was the frustration that shook Morrison out of his reverie, that gave him that final push of motivation. He continued along the hallway, down two flights of stairs, and towards the security checkpoint. Dodson saw him coming and stood up with a wave.
"Tony? You doin' ok? You look all sweaty."
Morrison slowed down a little. he put on a professional smile and kept going with his approach.
"Hey Mark, yeah, just had a bit of food poisoning. Kate made chicken last night and I'm not sure that it was cooked through enough." He chuckled, thinking that at least it wasn't entirely a lie. "Roberts wanted me to get you to help me test the secondary blast door. Just to make sure it closes fast enough. You set?"
Dodson laughed a bit, nodding. "Yeah I know what you mean, chicken's tricky. Always preferred to overcook it just in case." His easy expression set a bit. "You sure you're ready to get that close, Tony? It's not been all that long…"
"It's fine Mark, you know I always quadruple think things. Only way to move on is to get back on the horse. so do you need to grab anything to get started?"
Dodson nodded, thinking for a moment before grabbing the access keys from the locker beneath the desk. "Lets get to it then bud."
Morrison nodded grimly and started towards the outer blast door, listening to Dodsons footsteps slightly behind him. They reached the door together, Morrison making sure to conceal his sweating palms from his friend. He looked up at the mammoth door. at least a foot of solid steel, painted in clear black with vivid yellow warning strips, signs and notices plastering its surface to warn any present of the danger contained within.
"You all set Tony?"
Dodsons voice broke him out of his thoughts. He looked over to see Dodson standing by the control unit, cypher in hand and looking at him expectantly.
"Yeah, yeah of course, sorry Mark, just a bit nervous. Proceed when ready."
Dodson inserted the cypher, and the door began to ponderously roll on its gears to the side.
"Yeah, I hear you, I always get ner- HEY!" Dodson cried out in shock and fright as Morrison abruptly shoved him into the wall, snatching the cypher and racing inside the airlock to the interior control panel. He slammed the cypher into its slot just as Dodson cleared his pistol from its holster. The enormous door immediately slammed shut, an orange klaxon beginning to blare within the chamber.
He could tell that alarms were already blaring site wide. He smiled, knowing they weren't needed. His experiment would prove that. He wondered how long it would take for someone to try talk him down via the intercom as he rested his head against the door leading to the containment chamber itself. As if on cue, Dodsons voice squawked through the intercom.
"Morrison what are you doing!? Get out of there immediately or you will be terminated!"
What an empty threat. They couldn't get in with the cypher inserted on this side. The place was designed so that both doors could not be opened at the same time under any circumstance. Morrison smirked, knowing that he'd already won, all that was left was to disable the sprayers and to head inside. He brought up the controls for Procedure 4715-Waning Moon, and deactivated the nozzles. Slowly and carefully, Morrison moved the cypher to the opposite access panel and slotted it in.
Take a deep breath, and turn the key.
The blast door rolled to the left with a clatter. Despite his expectations, the first thing that Morrison noticed was the cold. It was like stepping inside a walk in freezer at a restaurant. The next thing was the smell. It was what he imagined a battlefield would smell like. Musky and oily and bloody. Clearing his mind, Morrison looked to the center of the room at SCP-4715 sitting crouched upon the floor and glaring at him balefully.
"Look how healthy its coat is, how strong its muscles look" he thinks to himself "All because the fucking O5s won't make an effort to quell all these wars…" Putting one foot in front of the other, Morrison entered the cell. He looked nervously to Observation Window A where he could see dozens of his horrified coworkers staring at him. He forced a confident smile, then turned to watch the door roll closed on its automated timer.
The crackle of the intercom startled him, and he whirled around to look back at the window. Up there was Site Director Steven Roberts. He was holding a microphone. "Tony, you need to come out. I know you're suffering, but we can help you. Come out now and we can help you forget all of this. You could go back to Site-19. How's that sound mate?"
He looks earnest, but it was too late to turn back now. Doing so would be signing his own death warrant or even get him demoted to D-Class. Same thing really, he supposed. No, it was instead time for him to explain to everyone what he was doing. "It's fine, I told you. It feed on violence and bad intentions, that's why it's so healthy right now! It's gained mass every day since the Gaza strip, since Syria, sine Ukraine… But if we starve it, if we hold no ill intent, its safe!"
Morrison was surprised by how his speech was able to steel him. He was also surprised by the effect it had on Roberts, who had stepped back, looking lost. He turned to look at the creature, only now realising just how massive it was. Its small, beady eyes blared down at him balefully, filling Morrison with a deep, instinctive fear. All he wanted to do was turn tail and run despite his utter conviction that if he approached with entirely peaceful intentions he would be safe.
Putting one foot before the other, Morrison slowly approached the creature, and decided to continue his speech in an effort to steel his nerves. "A-as I will now demonstrate, Approaching with peaceful thoughts and actions, the subject will not harm me."
Emboldened by his own logic, Morrison was within 10 feet now, craning his neck to look up at the hunched abominations face. This close it was plain to see how fundamentally wrong this thing was. How the light seemed to hit its fur the wrong way, how its shadow an awful sickly yellow tint. Even this close, it remained motionless and seemingly unconcerned by the cold that made Morrisons breath fog the air.
Morrison shuffled further forward, and was now only 5 feet away. The things musk filled his nostrils, revolting him. It stank of blood and sweat and gunpowder and a dozen other things he couldn't place. He wiped his sleeve over his glasses and nose, in an effort to clear his airway of the stench, then jumped in fright as Director Roberts tried the intercom again.
"Tony come on, turn around now and we can still go easy on you. I promise, ok?"
A small part of Morisson wanted to believe that. But he knew it wasn't true. If it was Dodson andthe others would be arguing with the Director. Instead, he simply shook his head at the window and plunged in closer to his goal.
Finally, Morisson stopped right before the monster, which lowered its huge head down to stare him in the eye. Its teeth didn't even fit within that huge maw, and its breath stank like a charnel house. He just barely fought back the urge to retch, taken aback once more by his failure to consider what something like this would smell like. Still, he'd come this far, and if he could get his point across he would be a Foundation hero.
Slowly he raised his hand. "Hello big fella. I know your hungry for violence, but from now on you won't be getting it. Just Love and affection. And everyone is just going to be so much happier." He stammered the words, but he felt that he had to say something before this huge step, right?
His hand came to rest on top of the things snout, and he started running it up and down as if petting a horse. The monster bristled and snarled horribly, but didn't move to attack. Morrisons heart fluttered in terror, momentarily doubting himself. Still, when it didn't lunge for him he realised he was right. He was safe.
Still petting the creatures snout, Morrison turned to look at the observation window and at his astonished colleagues. "As you can see, when treated peacefully, SCP-4715 will react in kind. We could save millions of dollars by simply treating it well and taking a more active role in ending these petty conflicts between nations. How many lives will be saved that way? We can cut off its food supply, it might even be neutralised. No more worry about it getting out, no more casualties in the dozens, no more worrying that that fucking mask will use it as a host. We can do this!"
He stepped back, basking in the stunned faces of his coworkers staring down at him through the observation window and in his own magnificent success, not even caring about the reeking breath of the monster besides him. He could see Dodson gesticulating wildly at the containment procedures, arguing with Roberts, but he didn't care what they were talking about. Morisson turned on his heel and went to step back out of the cell, only to be pulled from his self satisfied reverie by the intercom squawking to life and hearing the voice of Director Roberts.
"TONY RUN! GET OUT OF THERE!"
Confused and alarmed, Morisson half turned just in time to see the hulking abomination lunge for him. Letting out a despairing scream, Morisson desperately tried to flee, but was far too slow. He felt a gargantuan hand wrap around his leg, lifting him into the air screaming.
His leg was broken already, he could feel that vicelike grip grinding his fibula and tibia to dust as it carried him to the blast door,slamming him against it and holding him against the cold steel with a hand the size of his entire torso. Screaming in agony and terror, he looked desperately to the viewing window and at his horrified coworkers. Why weren't they sending a fireteam down to save him? Why wasn't anyone scrambling to help? He screamed out in pain and fear as 4715 grabbed his arm and almost gently pulled it to that hideous maw. Morisson couldn't bear to look as those razor sharp teeth cleanly sheared off his fingers. He watched as the abomination turned its head to stare meaningfully at the observation window, and finally realised what it was he hadn't considered about the monsters nature. It was just one passage from the containment papers, but it played over and over in his mind as the monster looked from the observation window and back to him with a hideous leer.
"SCP-4715 has been observed attempting to draw uninvolved individuals into states of conflict in order to increase its biomass."
The phrase ran through his mind over and over, even as the monster took his other arm into its mouth. He knew the theory behind not sending help, knowing that it was using him as bait to lure the site into a fight so it could escape. But didn't do anything to stop his pleading and screaming. He looked desperately to the viewing window just in time to see the security shutters sliding shut, and the last thing he heard that wasn't animalstic laughter or his own screaming was Director Roberts voice over the intercom.
"I'm sorry Tony… I'm so sorry."
Item #: SCP-5170 (get new number)
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures:
Description:
SCP-X is a large statue of a masculine figure holding a spear with a head sculpted to resemble a horned hyaenodon (Hyaenodon gigax) skull, located within an artificial cavern in south-central France. It stands 4.9m tall, and is fused with the earth beneath it despite being composed of an as yet unidentified black stone. Surrounding SCP-X are the remains of a village. Analysis of the structures has shown architectural similarities to many 14th century villages in the area, though there is no record of any inhabited settlement in the region from that time.
access via a house in Rocamadour, France, tunnel leads 17km away, in a downward direction, enters into a cavern (unsure if it was always subterranian, or if something sunk the town)
scp is the statue itself, standing in the middle of a subterranean cavern full of burnt out/ crumbling ruins. ruins date to 14th century france etc etc. Access via the basement of a church or house in a historic village, passage leads into the cavern.
the village is full of kidnapped sick people dating back to the 1350s. All are terminally ill but never die. they speak 13th century French and worship the statue. Plague, ebola, TB, smallpox, cholera, etc (008 and 610?) (plague rats feed and water them?)
Statue is at the highest point, on a hill, made of granite, shaped like a tall man with a spear and the skull of a hyaenodon for the head, plus mane and a lot of spikes. (Has glowing green eyes?). Statue breathes very slowly but can be seen in footage. Statue periodically vanishes, then returns with a person to add to the carpet. This always co-incides with a massive outbreak of an unusually virulent disease from a hospital, doctors office, etc somewhere in the world.
Addendum:
Witness statement from a nurse who saw the statue walk out of the morgue, walk to a terminally ill kid, whisper to them, the kid nods, the statue strokes their hair, impales them, and just vanishes. Nurse later dies of the disease, along with many people from the same hospital.
Note that kid turned up in the body carpet.
New idea: lionspear from brookhaven hospital, but it's actually a statue found in a cavern/ cathedral below a french town dating to the 1340-50s. It's surrounded by a writhing carpet of people, all very sick, a lot with the plague, all with sever symptoms, but not dying even when shot. They clamor weakly to try and touch the statue. Sometimes, the statue vanishes, and appears in a hospital, doctors office etc somewhere in the world to visit a very sick person, and ask them if they want to escape their disease killing them. if they accept, it takes them to the cavern. (If not maybe it causes an outbreak of whatever that person is sick with? Does it anyway?)
I just had this mental image of this old as heck cavern with a tall pillar-like statue carved from the granite in the shape of that entity, surrounded by a writhing carpet of dying but happy people too weak to move, but fawning over and trying to touch the statue
and there would be a witness statement saying that it leaned down to say, this kid in a bed and whispers something in their ear, the kid nods, and it takes their hand and they just vanish
The idea being that when someone is suffering SO badly from an illness, it will come and offer them a way out
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Euclid Keter Neutralised Safe
Special Containment Procedures:
All samples of SCP-XXXX save for SCP-XXXX-A are to be contained within standard issue aerosol proof tightened canisters within a locked hermetically sealed freezer to be kept within BSL-3 Laboratory-XXX. All staff working with SCP-XXXX in any capacity are expected to adhere to BSL-3 protocols at all times. SCP-XXXX is to always be confined to small, tight environments no larger than 12cm2 in order to keep its anomalous nature from manifesting. Testing of SCP-XXXX may only be authorized by level 4 personnel or higher.
Biological Containment Site-40 is located one (1)km away from the island on which SCP-XXXX-A is located, and is disguised as an operational weather station. Local weather patterns are to be monitored at all times to determine the threat of surrounding areas being exposed to SCP-XXXX. Following increment weather, personnel are to closely examine potentially effected areas. Personnel are to constantly monitor the location for any change in activity, patrol the waters around SCP-XXXX-A, and ensure no members of the civilian populace enter the area. SCP-XXXX-a is to be fenced off, and houses an on location security building for on site research and security maneuvers. All testing within the area of SCP-XXXX-A must be carried out with no fewer than 5 security personnel, and all researchers and security personnel are to be equipped with level 4 NBC suits. The borders of SCP-XXXX-A are to be sprayed with diluted formaldehyde and chlorine three times weekly, and all SCP-XXXX-B individuals are to be kept from crossing this border with lethal force.
Any individual entering SCP-XXXX-A and captured by any instance of SCP-XXXX-B is to be terminated from range, save for D-Class testing. In the event a civilian survives exposure to SCP-XXXX-A or SCP-XXXX-B they are to be treated for anthrax, questioned thoroughly, and monitored for any anomalous effects for a minimum of 6 months before being cleared for release and administration of class C amnestics.
As of 27/10/1984 all personnel operating within the area effected by SCP-XXXX-A are to be equipped with automatic weaponry and an armored transport vehicle.
MODERN CONTAINMENT: SCP-XXXX has been allowed to establish an environment within Biological Containment Site-40 in order to better understand its effects and anomalous nature. No more than 1 specimen of SCP-XXXX-B may be allowed to exist at any one time, research exceptions may only be approved by level 4 staff or higher.
Description:
SCP-XXXX is a variation of the M36 Vollum strain of anthrax altered by an unknown thaumaturgical catalyst developed by the Defence Science and Technology Laboratory (Dstl) under the directives of the British government in mid 1941. Though very little documentation remains, it is known that the M36 Vollum strain of Bacillus anthracis bacteria was bound to a thaumaturgic catalyst via unknown means, and was designed to cause rapid population growth along with increased spore production in a rapid period of time. Dtsl designed the strain as an area denial weapon to render cities uninhabitable, and to infect livestock in effort to destroy enemy food supplies.
SCP-XXXX anomalous effects manifest when exposed to an aerobic or anaerobic environment with sufficient space to allow a large population to survive, typically when released from the delivery canisters designed to be the primary delivery agent by the Dstl upon manufacture. Currently, there is only one such area that has been heavily effected, located on ████████ island, Scotland, and has been designated SCP-XXXX-A. SCP-XXXX-A is approximately 1.7 x 0.8km in area and has been active since 1942. Upon release, SCP-XXXX intially behaves typically of Bacillus anthracis, growing in soil and producing Anthrax spores, albeit at an extremely rapid rate. the anomalous effects of SCP-XXXX maifest intially as a small scale terraforming of the soil in which it grows, producing high levels of Sulfur, potassium and fluorine. Over time, it will cause the geography of the area infested by the bacteria to change drastically, forming new lakes, rises and cave systems. After a lengthy time period, SCP-XXXX will cause previously unknown flora to grow in its environment, primarily fungal but not appearing to adhere to any one biological order. These organisms have proven highly resistant to a wide variety of environmental conditions, and seem to aid in the terraforming of the environment via unknown means. This flora takes a variety of forms, but the most common is a brown fungus with ground creeping vines that secretes organic compounds into the earth much like that of a sundew. Once flora has become firmly established in the effected area, humanoid entities were seen to arrive via unknown means from under the earth in SCP-XXXX-A.
Designated SCP-XXXX-B, these possess both mammalian and fungal traits standing on anywhere between 0.2 and 0.8 metres tall, with recent emergences being of larger size. They have no outward sensory organs and are able to perceive their environment through unknown means. they produce anthrax spores in large quantities from sponge-like cavities on their backs and exhibit total immunity to its effects. The only facial feature SCP-XXXX-B possesses is a vestigial mouth covered in skin, suggesting evolution akin to that found in non anomalous animals and plants. They subside primarily on the liquid produced by the fungus growths in the area, which is consumed by filter feeding via their porous skin. They appear capable of sexual reproduction with one another, but seem to very rarely engage in it.
Long range observation of SCP-XXXX-B has taught us much of their behaviour and suggests that they possess a rudimentary intelligence, being capable of teamwork, low level tool use, and communication through vocalization. They tend to spend most of their time traveling about SCP-XXXX-A vocalising to one another, eating as groups, and building primitive structures resembling teepees. Each item is topped with dried branches and stones. The origin of this behaviour is not known to be innate knowledge or something greater at this point in time. Close range observation of SCP-XXXX-B has proven too dangerous due to the extreme aggression and borderline religious practises shown towards humans. Why they behave so differently towards humans compared to other animal species is unknown, but is theorized to be due to anatomical similarities.
SCP-XXXX-B have been observed to display primitive behaviour closely reminiscent of human religious ceremonies and rites. Such behaviour includes mass gatherings before a large structure resembling a teepee or church steeple where they vocalise in unison for extended periods of time. This behaviour seems to be linked to their hostility towards humans, as when an individual is discovered and captured by any number of instances of SCP-XXXX-B they will be brought to this location and subjected to various activities, including the forced consumption of SCP-XXXX-B flesh and immersion in a deep pool of the fluids exuded by the local flora over an extended period of time. In 74% of cases the individual will succumb to cutaneous, respiratory or gastrointestinal anthrax. Bodies of such individuals are allowed to remain at the base of the structure built by SCP-XXXX-B
While an infestation of SCP-XXXX can take place extremely rapidly, its anomalous effects take place over a significant time period, and in the case of SCP-XXXX-A it was not discovered to be more than garden variety anthrax until 23 years after initial release.
Addendum XXXX-1: Since SCP-XXXX-A's discovery in 1965, it has been observed that instances of SCP-XXXX-B are growing exponentially larger. Following recent findings, it is now believed that the maximum size attainable for SXP-XXXX-B is 1.57 metres in height.
Addendum XXXX-2: As of 27/10/1986, the maximum height of SCP-XXXX-B has been found to be between 2,4 and 3 metres. Recommending security measures be tightened and any peronell entering SCP-XXXX-A be heavily armed and provided with an armored vehicle.
Addendum XXXX-3: (Incident report?) On 19/2/1990 a SCP-XXXX-B specimen emerged from the center of SCP-XXXX-A measuring 4.8 metres tall, displaying unusual coloration and behaving in a significantly more agitated manner than other SCP-XXXX-B individuals. The specimen was seen to assault the on site Foundation Security station resulting in ██ casualties before attempting moving out of SCP-XXXX-A and towards the coastline. Specimen was dispatched by an attack helicopter (Figure out what attack helicopter the british used in 1990) sent from Biological Site 40. Post Motrem analysis discovered no differences between the specimen and other SCP-XXXX-B specimens other than in pigment, leading to the conclusion that SCP-XXXX-B specimens will continue to grow at an exponential rate.
In wake of these events, SCP-XXXX has been reclassified as keter, and SCP-XXXX-A has been slated for neutralisation.
Between the 25/2/1990 and 19/5/1990, SCP operatives from Biological containment site-40 collaborating with MTF Beta-7 ("Maz hatters") enacted what is now termed operation Soddom to neutralise SCP-XXXX-A. Initial stages of operation soddom consisted of four squadrons of security and containment personnel equipped with armored vehicles led by MTF Beta-7 neutralising all instances of SCP-XXXX-B present within SCP-XXXX-A save for 4 individuals captured as specimens over the course of a day. Following this, MTF Beta-7 proceeded to throughly excavate in excess of 3000 metric tonnes of topsoil and anomalous flora from SCP-XXXX-A and the remainder of ████████ island, including all structures constructed by SCP-XXXX-B. following this, the island was sprayed with over 280 tonnes of formaldehyde followed by equal amounts of chlorine in an effort to destroy all traces of SCP-XXXX in the area. Subsequent sprayings were enacted over the following months, and captured specimens of SCP-XXXX-A and B were transferred to secure containment within Biological Containment Site-40. As of the 24/5/1990, SCP-XXXX-A is to be considered neutralised and SCP-XXXX is fully contained.
Addendum XXXX-4: MODERN NOTES: Following incident XXXX-274, SCP-XXXX is now believed to be an anomalous strain of Bacillus anthracis that creates a slow acting unstable extradimensional rift within the earth of any area currently infested by the bacterium. As the bacterium develops a large area of residence, material from the other side of the rift will slowly bleed through to the resident area. It is hypothesised that organisms crossing to the resident side of the rift are genetically altered by the process, rendering them immune to the effects of anthrax and in the case of SCP-XXXX-B allowing them to produce anthrax spores from their bodies.
SCP-XXXX-B display a form of hive intelligence proportional to the number of individuals present within a 3km radius, with large numbers of individuals being capable of complex actions,5 whereas smaller populations lose this cognitive ability. populations fewer than 3 individuals are not considered to be sapient, posing very little threat.
Addendum XXXX-5: MODERN SUMMARY: In addition to the stable SCP-XXXX effected area and SCP-XXXX-B specimen in containment, 19 SCP-XXXX-B specimens and 6 altered civillians and foundation personnel remain in storage for cataloguing and research purposes. (Addendum? Be more blatant with how they're altered? High clearance required?)
Tale idea 1:
Scipnet forum, a big fantasy football betting thing where the "Teams" are SCPs in a big deathmatch, featuring this, able, 682, the shy guy, king of the mountain, 106, 939, etc etc.
End it with a general missive shutting down the forum from a supervisor who yells at them about how many people were killed by the scps involved and how it's disrespectful.
NOTES FROM FRIENDS:
URANIUMEMPIRE:
hrm
i could see a final note that, like
5170 appears to be getting just a bit more emaciated as time passes
as a result of a general move towards peace
like of course it still needs meat, but i think pushing the concept that it feeds on war into a more direct approach might do the piece well
DEXANOTE:
that the idea that it is The Demon Born From War makes it thrive in a warlike area
i feel like it should become more lethal the more foes it faces
which…
could logically make it weaker 1v1
Some sort of… conjured being that wrecks its way through hordes of foes but can be handled 1v1
I also like the skull being the picture, or something similar
grows back from the skull or from various parts
posesses DNA that appears to have some similarities to genus Pan and Homo, though it resembles no known species (whether mundane or otherwise)
Unknown origin, several cave paintings (Whats the word for rock carvings or paintings that aren't in caves) from prehistory found in locales such as mountainous regions in southern Asia and western North America
depict a similar creature, complete with x number of limbs and distinctive posture
don't need to directly reference 1000 - but it's been found in archaeological and paleontological areas associated with 1000. Tibet and the pacific northwest
This isn't so we cut 1000 out entirely.
I'd love to see if we can make a thing with 1000 as somehow this thing's origin
… or previous prison
… Balth what if they didn't create it
but they had to let it loose, or it escaped them?
Not "lets do this instead" but brainstorming
MOOSE:
I do think that interpretation is too straightforward — maybe it could be fun to have people (historical mystical types) have created a mythology around this explaining 517 like that. Like really strong, elaborate beliefs that may not have a basis in reality or make any sense. (The reality may simply be that it was created by 1000, somehow survived to the present, and its purpose is not known and maybe unknowable beyond that it was definitely related to a war that 1000 was involved in)
It definitely seems like it could be tied to 1000. It wouldn't have been created to save themselves from humanity (that whole thing worked bc it was a surprise attack) and the revenge thing could work if done by just a few 1000s, but may be too straightforward. This thing is such a straightforward concept, albeit with such a cool name, that I think adding multiple layers of mystery to it would make it really fun.
Maybe it wasn't even something directly created, or created on purpose. A demon 'born of war' that has to be pacified by eating huge amounts fresh meat? Seems almost religious, like those old myths of monsters being spawned by atrocities being committed during war, or simply a horrible mass-scale battle. Reminds me of some of the more inspired older SCPs, like… say, Cain. How he is obviously Cain from the Bible, but everything about his existence implies some kind of totally different history from the one we had, yet he's not from an alternate universe or anything. It's a low-key Buried-Giant-esque "what the fuck did the historical world actually look like and why is it so different from consensus reality"?
Ahaha hopefully that was helpful and not just way too much :]
IHP:
I like the 1000 angle
and I'm contuially amused by the fact that they have become their own mini GOI
hell, it even gives the fight against 076 creater context.
greater*
ultimate human weapon vs ultimate bigfoot weapon
I need to get this down before I forget it. Dream I had last night was very Sarkist and I think it could be a tale or scp if I work it right
So it was centered around an old military fort/ lighthouse at the park in my town. there is no such structure there irl. The vibe was that there was a family there in the lighthouse (Parents, son, daughter) and they were there in the early 1800s or so, when I think British redcoats? invaded. The son used the lighthouse fort thing as a snipers nest to pick off the invaders one by one. they kept coming for a long time, but were driven off. In this time, the father introduced the family to a form of magic (Sarkism) to keep them going. Time seemed to skip a bit, and in the present day the son stole someone from a hospital wanting to induct her into their sect. As a result, the feds came. By this point the mother was elderly, and the father, leader of the sect was basically bed ridden. Federal police came after the girl, and the son started picking them off just like he did the british. eventually they break in, witht he son and daughter retreating into the lighthouse, using their powers to make the agents turn their guns onto themselves or to suck their blood to empower themselves. This was in the midst of some sort of ritual to induct the nurse from the hospital into their order as well, so she's out of it in a chair bath thing. The mother is killed, and the fight ends up in the top of the lighthouse where the father is. the agents sink hooks and daggers and everything into him, and when enough damage was done to him, it sort of ripped open his skin showing a much more robust figure inside, the skin became like hooked apendages and he used those to massacre the feds, and the mother came upstairs in the same state holding a rope. the son and daughter also shed their skins, and are much more refined versions of the parents, who are happy to see how well they did with "The new generation" the mother then leads the nurse up to welcome her to her new life and she's confused but not thrilled about it as you'd imagine.
Actually come to think of it I think it might have been mafia guys, not feds