Item #: SCP-#

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-# is to be encapsulated within a Level 2 containment safe situated adjacent to the office of O5-██. The code to this safe must be altered on a weekly basis in accordance with Protocol #225-Sigma.

Due to the events of ██/██/████, access to SCP-# has been restricted to personnel possessing Level 3 clearance and explicit written consent from a minimum of two (2) researchers of an equivalent or greater security level.

Description: SCP-# is a 10cm X 12cm X 20cm hardbound book afflicted with superficial damage to the borders of the pages and the spine. Despite its near illegibility, researchers have deduced that a label plastered to the front-facing cover of the object reads, "Flight of the Monarch: A Tale by Anonymous"; an etching of a crown can be observed below this text.

The exposition of the tale recounts an unnamed king's rise to the throne and his subsequent founding of a fictional empire. Readers report a generally positive tone throughout this portion of the novel as well as a Shakespearean rhyming scheme which persists until the final 20 pages, at which point SCP-#'s anomalous properties manifest. Once the subject has reached this portion of the story, the book will abruptly close; subjects exhibit an uncontrollable desire to read the novel's ending, often entering severely agitated emotional states and attacking nearby individuals. Regardless of the amount of force applied, the book will not reopen until approximately 13 minutes have elapsed, the concluding portion now accessible.

SCP-# possesses an apparent capability to analyze the reader's psyche and alter the ending accordingly. All potential endings are emotionally strenuous for the subject, and will typically result in [DATA EXPUNGED] (see Addendum II). The effects of the ending upon the subject appear to manifest in a physical context.

As of ██/██/████, 28 D-Class personnel have read SCP-# in its entirety; of that 28, 22 are deceased and 6 are currently undergoing psychological analysis within Site-81. Per the requests of Dr. ██████, these individuals are not to be terminated at the conclusion of their one-month testing period.

Following the generation of an ending, SCP-# will revert to its original state and eradicate all text printed on the final 20 pages. Attempts to record endings have yet to yield results due to similar occurrences.

Addendum I: Interview #-Sigma
D-█████ is currently undergoing psychological analysis at Site-81.

<Begin Log>

Dr. Earnhardt: D-█████, can you hear me?

(D-█████ fails to respond.)

Dr. Earnhardt: D-█████, please nod if you can understand me.

(D-█████ nods.)

Dr. Earnhardt: What can you tell me about the ending of the book you read?

D-█████: No…

Dr. Earnhardt: Pardon?

D-█████: Please, doctor. I…I can't.

Dr. Earnhardt: I'm afraid you don't have a say in the matter, D-█████. Now, uh…tell me about the book.

D-█████ (slowly): It was…just like any other story, I guess. Pretty cliche, actually. The king was a farmer's son, but…(pause)…he…uh, he inspired the townsfolk and overthrew a pretty nasty guy.

Dr. Earnhardt: Interesting…go on.

D-█████: He was pretty kind…the people loved him, anyway. He married someone, had a few kids, and then…

Dr. Earnhardt: Yes?

D-█████: Then the book closed.

Dr. Earnhardt: Do you know why that happened?

D-█████: [REDACTED]

Dr. Earnhardt: That's fine. What happened after the book closed?

D-█████: My head started to hurt, and I couldn't see…it felt as if something was gnawing at me, you know? Just…just fucking eating at me from the inside. I think I threw up…I walked up to somebody and asked for help, but they fell down and ran away…there was blood everywhere…(sobbing) Oh, God…

Dr. Earnhardt: What was the ending?

D-█████ (continuing to sob): I was in a field, I think. My family was around me, but they were just standing there…they were staring at me, and they didn't move…according to the story, I ran towards them, and they started…

Dr. Earnhardt: Started what?

D-█████: They started throwing rocks at me. It felt real…my chest hurt…I was bleeding…I asked them what was wrong, but they just continued to fucking pelt me with stones..they were chanting something, I don't know. I think it was "Death to [NAME REDACTED]", or some shit like that…I knew what they meant. I knew what they were talking about. It was fucking me, wasn't it? They were mad at me…mad at what I did…they were so fucking disappointed…read it, and you'll understand…

(D-█████ sobs uncontrollably for 2 minutes and 12 seconds.)

Dr. Earnhardt: I believe we're finished here. Thank you, D-█████.

<End Log>

Addendum II: Document #-Epsilon