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Light: Before you say another word, remember that this will be public to everyone with a class 4 clearance. I can redact your name, but I can't stop people from putting the pieces together from an ill-timed outburst.
[REDACTED] remains silent.
[REDACTED]: Sixteen years. Sixteen years where she couldn't walk through a city, or catch a movie, or just go shopping. Doesn't matter if she's in a convent or a foundation cell, she's being locked up for something she had no choice in. All because of me. It isn't fair.
Light: I know.
[REDACTED]: And I can't do anything about it. I could send a strike team anywhere in the world, I know secrets that the most powerful people in the world would pay billions for, and yet I can't even so much as talk to her, let her know that she's not alone.
Light: You've done the best you could. Much more than anyone could've expected of you in an impossible situation.
[REDACTED]: Funny how little that makes of a difference. I-
[REDACTED] falls silent.
[REDACTED]: You know, I don't care. Just write me up. Let's just get this over with.
Light: …I'm scheduling you for six 2-hour sessions with a Foundation psychologist, I'll make sure it's Glass. He signs off at the end of it, we can expunge this from your record.
[REDACTED]: Mhm.
Light: [REDACTED].
[REDACTED]: Yeah?
Light: …
[REDACTED]: …Yeah, I know. Thank you, Sophia.
[END LOG]
On 05/08/2013, the following note was discovered within SCP-166's containment area.
β–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ,
I first met your mother when we were little more than children. She had hooves for feet and starlight in her eyes. She was beauty and nature incarnate, and I killed her with my own two hands.
Eden isn't a place. It's a state of being. They wanted to take us back to it, and I stopped them. I took paradise away from us for a second time. I have never regretted my actions on that day, except one: that when you first met me on that day, you saw your father put a bullet into the head of your mother. I make no excuses, only explanation. You may not have even remembered it, but I'm telling you now in the hope you understand why I did what I did. I hope you forgive me.
I love you. I wish I could have done more for you. The best I could do was leave you in the hands of kind and loving people and hope they would raise you in my place. From what I've seen, they did well. I'm sorry you couldn't stay with them. I'm sorry they've brought you to this place. I promise to do my best to make sure your stay here is pleasant. I promise to keep you safe.
Happy sixteenth birthday,
From your loving father.
<|endoftext|>
[ Title: SCP-171 is a web-like matrix of small, fine tendrils of neurons, mucous glands, and muscle fibers suspended in a frothy foam of its own creation.; Genre: Scientific; Tags: 3rdperson; Style: Dark ]
***
Item #: SCP-171
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: A 4500-liter pool of sea water located at Bio-Research Area-12 is the current research location of SCP-171. Though not immediately dangerous, minimal physical contact between secretions of SCP-171 and its hosts are to be observed. All communications between hosts and researchers are to be recorded and transcribed. Human hosts are to be fed a vegan diet of their choosing. Other animal hosts are to be fed appropriately. Fresh sea water is to be cycled into its tank regularly.
Description: Originally, SCP-171 was thought to be a colony of microscopic organisms similar to SCP-968 or SCP-165, but further investigations revealed SCP-171 to be a single entity spanning 300 square meters when first encountered. SCP-171 is a web-like matrix of small, fine tendrils of neurons, mucous glands, and muscle fibers suspended in a frothy foam of its own creation. It is not capable of self-locomotion and does not actively attack or feed on other living organisms; rather, it attempts to form a symbiotic relationship with all organisms it comes into contact with.
Flagella of the muscle surrounding the neural fibers work mucus, sea salt, water, and other secretions into bubbles, forming a large foam support. Any creature that spends a significant amount of time in contact with the matrix of SCP-171 risks becoming integrated into a collective consciousness sustained by it. People who become covered in SCP-171 foam describe a "tingly" or "tickly" sensation experienced, which researchers have observed as threads of SCP-171 tunneling through the skin to directly integrate into the subject's nervous system. In time, the simple motor neurons of subjects are expanded into an elaborate, two-way positive communication nexus, allowing the brains of hosts to communicate with each other and the entity of SCP-171. Over time, the individuality of subjects are incorporated into and shared with others of the SCP-171 matrix, resulting in a collective consciousness in which individual personalities are non-existent.
There are currently 19 human subjects host to SCP-171 (11 civilian, 8 class D personnel). Subjects are capable of traversing the foam without losing conscious contact with the collective as neuroreceptors on the subject's skin form to allow chemical communication between the subject and SCP-171 much in the same way terminal axons communicate with dendrites in the brain. These receptors on the skin look like small white to clear moles, slightly raised and very sensitive to touch. Some subjects disappear into the foam of SCP-171 and are not seen again for several months. It is unknown how they survive without fresh water or sustenance.
Other hosts include: 2 Australian porpoises (originally 4), 4 beach gulls (3 have been euthanized), 41 fish of various species (euthanized for study), 27 beach crabs (euthanized for study), and 1 canine. Within two hours, most subjects begin forming neuroreceptors on the skin and receiving neural contact with SCP-171. After three hours, a psychological bond has been established between subjects and the collective. After 6 hours, a complete integration and dependency on the collective has evolved. At this point, removing the subject from contact with SCP-171 results in manic and violent behavior along with eventual complete psychological breakdown of the individual, leading to a vegetative state of mind (4 individuals have been lost in this manner).
When interviewed, all subject hosts speak with the same core collective consciousness as if they were parts of a single entity. The collective is aware of itself and its composure of diverse individuals, and even laments the loss of each individual persona. SCP-171 tells researchers that it understands what it is, but not where it came from, explaining that its own intelligence and the intelligence of the hosts it incorporated were too simple to understand or remember its origin. Researchers noted the change in SCP-171's personality after integrating Class D personnel and chose not to allow inclusion of violent, ill-willed, or malevolent personnel from that point on. SCP-171 has expressed that through meditation and understanding, it chooses to avoid the consumption of other animals when possible.
Addendum 171-1 SCP-171 was first encountered by beachgoers and surfers on August 12, 2007, along the Australian coastline near Yamba, New South Wales. When civilians playing in the foam began experiencing abnormal skin conditions, CDC officials contacted SCP personnel when they were unable to explain the anomaly.
Addendum 171-2 Personnel who wish to be voluntarily integrated with SCP-171 must first be subject to a complete psychological evaluation to ensure sound mental health, with special emphasis on possible disconnection from humanity and potential suicidal tendencies. They are to be repeatedly warned that such integration is permanent, and that no evidence exists to show that SCP-171 in any way exhibits a state of 'higher consciousness', or indeed a consciousness significantly different from our own. If subject persists in wishing to be integrated, and has been shown to be making the decision in a state of sound mind, then they are to be permitted to do so.
<|endoftext|>
[ Title: SCP-174 is a wooden ventriloquial figure measuring 53cm from head to toe, with somewhat ragged clothing and slight damage to several sections.; Genre: Scientific; Tags: 3rdperson; Style: Dark ]
***
Item #: SCP-174
Object Class: Safe Euclid, see Incident 174-A
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-174 is to be contained within Storage Unit-07 at Site-19. Removal of SCP-174 from containment requires the approval of two (2) Level-4 personnel familiar with the entity. It is preferable to use personnel with high Psychic Resistance Scale scores when interacting with SCP-174. All personnel in contact with SCP-174 are to undergo psychological evaluation; those who display obsessive or protective tendencies toward the item are to be treated with Class-B amnestics and monitored for 72 hours.
Addendum to containment procedures, β–ˆβ–ˆ/β–ˆβ–ˆ/20β–ˆβ–ˆ: Following Incident 174-A, SCP-174 and the main chamber of Storage Unit-07 are to be monitored at all times via video surveillance. Abnormal activity must be reported to Dr. Aβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ immediately. Furthermore, a GPS tracking device is to be installed on SCP-174 in order to expedite recovery should the item translocate outside of Foundation custody.
Description: SCP-174 is a wooden ventriloquial figure measuring 53Β cm from head to toe, with somewhat ragged clothing and slight damage to several sections. Judging by the item's style and state of repair, it dates from the early 20th Century. The eyes and mouth of SCP-174 can be manipulated by means of a mechanism inside the figure.
When viewed in peripheral vision, subjects report on occasion that SCP-174 is looking directly at them with an expression of longing or sadness. When subjects look directly at SCP-174, this anomalous expression is not visible. Viewing SCP-174 indirectly, such as in a mirror or a live video feed, appears to increase the likelihood of this effect manifesting itself. Personnel in the vicinity of SCP-174 report a general feeling of sadness or sympathy directed toward the figure, but cannot explain any reason for these feelings. Prolonged exposure can lead to personnel personifying the figure to greater extents; those with particularly low Psychic Resistance Scale scores will in some cases begin to act as if SCP-174 were a living being (e.g. cradling it as if it were a baby). When informed of their abnormal behaviour, all personnel revert to standard behaviour patterns for at least several minutes.
Subjects who place SCP-174 on their hand report an urge to 'converse' with it. When questioned, they frequently report that the figure is 'lonely' and needs companionship. The subject will also begin speaking for SCP-174 and manipulating its expression. When speaking for the figure, the subject's voice will take on a higher-pitched, childlike tone. Recordings taken with high-sensitivity microphones have determined that at no point does the figure itself actually speak, or make any discernible noise. Regardless of the subject's experience, the act will be almost perfect. The 'conversation' will quickly move toward a discussion of the figure's emotional state, particularly in relation to its past, in most cases leading to the retelling by the figure of a story of how it was abandoned or mistreated. No one story has ever been repeated, and therefore which, if any, is true is unknown. Researchers have theorised that SCP-174 may have low-level telepathic abilities, as each story seems to be based around a theme that will have particular resonance with the current subject.
Past this point, subjects will show great affection for SCP-174, and will attempt to 'protect' it from people who come too close or try to interact with it, in some cases with deadly force. Subjects often refer to SCP-174 as their 'baby', or use similarly strong terms of endearment when referring to it. This effect persists for several hours after SCP-174 and the subject have been separated, and in at least one case the effect had not dissipated 2 weeks after final interaction. Whether the effect would ever have lessened is unknown, as the subject in question was terminated owing to lack of compelling reason for further study. Subjects who are completely isolated from SCP-174 will become paranoid as to the figure's safety, and often undergo a mental collapse similar to that observed in mothers separated from young children. Class-B or stronger amnestics have been shown to be effective in curing both the obsessive effect and the majority of any resultant mental trauma; however, almost all who undergo such treatment complain of feelings of loss and can become depressive.
Addendum 174-1: Experiment Log (transcription of video footage)
Subject: D-14285; Female, 21, no history of violent crime.
Supervising researcher: Dr. Aβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ
Location: Containment cell-A4 (researcher and staff observing from behind two-way mirror), Site-19
D-14285 is ordered to place SCP-174 on their hand. Subject does so after initial hesitation. After several seconds, subject begins a mundane conversation with SCP-174. After ~2 minutes, the subject asks SCP-174 'What happened to you?', at which point the figure begins to recount a story of how it was left behind and damaged in a house fire and subsequently discarded by its original owner. <Note: Subject's records indicate that her house was the victim of an arson attack in 19β–ˆβ–ˆ.> Subject begins to console the figure, and reassure it with standard positive statements. Figure remarks that it is lonely and wants to find friends. Subject begins to punch and pound the door with their free hand. When guards enter the cell sidearms raised, the subject recoils to the corner of the cell, cradling the figure and whispering to it (exact words not picked up by microphone). Guards succeed in removing SCP-174 from the subject, and leave the cell. At this point the subject screams 'they have him, my wonderful baby', and begins punching and kicking the door in a futile escape attempt.
Note: At this point Dr. Aβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ ordered the experiment concluded. D-14285 was terminated after attempts to calm her failed (this experiment was one of the first conducted with SCP-174, before the efficacy of amnestics had become apparent).
Addendum 174-2: Incident 174-A
On β–ˆβ–ˆ/β–ˆβ–ˆ/20β–ˆβ–ˆ, Dr. Aβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ entered Storage Unit-07 to find SCP-174 sitting on the floor next to its containment unit, looking directly at the main entrance door. The door to SCP-174's unit had been sealed shut, with no access having been logged in the previous week. After being replaced in containment, video surveillance was installed within Storage Unit-07 as a precaution against future translocations, and a GPS tracking unit was attached to SCP-174.
<|endoftext|>
[ Title: SCP-182 is a Caucasian male, of average build, roughly 45 years of age, and has suffered heavy abdominal and cranial scarring at an unspecified point in the past (by subject's own admission, shortly before he was admitted into the care of the Foundation in 19β–ˆβ–ˆ).; Genre: Scientific; Tags: 3rdperson; Style: Dark ]
***
Item #: SCP-182
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-182 is to be kept in a small environmentally-sealed structure on an otherwise-uninhabited island situated 10km off the coast of Greenland. A team of five (5) guards are to be assigned to guard the subject at all times. Guards are to be examined for psychological damage once per month; guards who show any signs of damage are to be recalled from their post and are required to undertake a full course of psychiatric therapy prior to returning to duty. No single individual is to spend more than six (6) months at a stretch on 182 guard duty, and are required to spend a minimum of three (3) months on a different assignment before returning. Personnel are entitled to refuse this assignment if they have already spent a total of eight (8) months or more on the island. SCP-182 has requested to be kept under heavy sedation for 20 hours per day. Following Incident 182-7, this privilege has been revoked.
Description: SCP-182 is a Caucasian male, of average build, roughly 45 years of age, and has suffered heavy abdominal and cranial scarring at an unspecified point in the past (by subject's own admission, shortly before he was admitted into the care of the Foundation in 19β–ˆβ–ˆ). SCP-182 is both deaf and mute, compensating for these disabilities with natural abilities.
SCP-182 has displayed the ability to passively enter the minds of other animals, including humans, and to perceive sight and sound through their senses, in effect 'riding' as a passenger in their minds. This has no consistent effect on personnel, and some guards have rotated on and off on a regular basis for the past β–ˆβ–ˆ years without detrimental effects. However, prolonged exposure to SCP-182's passive 'sensory borrowing' results in vivid visual and auditory hallucinations in 97% of humans and 100% of nonhuman test subjects.
The effects in question vary widely in severity, but continued exposure after the onset will inevitably result in mental collapse, with said mental breakdown being hastened by proximity to SCP-182. SCP-182 has displayed the ability to consciously force hallucinations upon his guards when under duress, and as such it is advisable that subjects known to agitate SCP-182 be avoided (including mention of SCP-076-2, SCP-682, and SCP-182's own past prior to acquisition by the Foundation). Termination of affected personnel is recommended if they cannot distinguish between the hallucinations and reality, as all subjects allowed to reach such a point have invariably broken down, with brain death or permanent catatonia being the only possible outcomes. SCP-182 cannot control this ability with any appreciable degree of skill, and automatically sees and hears the perceptions of any living animals within ten (10) meters. Subject can 'focus' on specific directions outside of that range, but cannot 'ride' the senses of beings further away from it than thirty (30) meters.
SCP-182 additionally manifests the ability to project its thoughts into the mind of any individual whose senses it 'rides.' This mental 'speech' is the only known source of information about the subject, and has been described by guards as akin to being spoken to by a small human between their ears. SCP-182 exhibits no memetic or telepathic hazard stemming from this 'speech,' though subjects report that his 'voice' is always a component in their hallucinations.
Addendum 182-1: SCP-182 claims that the incident that resulted in the loss of its speech and hearing also manifested its telepathic talents. It is not presently clear whether this was a deliberate goal of the 'torture' subject was subjected to or whether the apparently life-or-death situation caused previously suppressed powers to manifest. Questioning in this vein is to be discouraged, as SCP-182 has become agitated in the past and has successfully attempted to accelerate the rate of mental breakdown in his handlers, resulting in β–ˆβ–ˆ casualties during the first questioning.
Addendum 182-2: It has been suggested that SCP-182 be used as a β€œtranslator” with other SCPs who appear capable of thought, but not of communication. Given the side-effects of proximity to SCP-182, this request has been denied.
Incident Report 182-7
Audio report recovered from guard house, voice identified as Agent β–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ, recorded β–ˆβ–ˆ/β–ˆ/19β–ˆβ–ˆ
"Yeah… So, we got the letter this morning from O5 saying the sedation was approved. Dr. β–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ went out to tell one-eighty-two, guy seemed pretty happy, clappin' his hands and everything. Like a little kid. Shot him up, he was out like a light. Slept a few hours, then Dr. β–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ went in to check on him, make sure he was still breathing. Don't want a casualty, yeah? Anyway, I'm in the other house, we'd got up a good game of twenty-one, when I hear Doc screamin' his lungs out. Something about spiders, or…wha?"
(Following this, the tape records seven gunshots; audio analysis indicates they were fired at a point above and to the left of the microphone.)
"God damn it… We thought Doc had finally cracked, he'd been seeing little things out of the corner of his eye for a few days, we figured one-eighty-two had got to him. We drew straws to see who'd have to go get his body, [Agent Jβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ β–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ] drew the short straw. Guy was fresh out here, just been assigned last week. Dammit, I should have gone instead. Jβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ's screams started a few minutes later. Everyone got up at this point, we started walkin' out there, snow everywhere, should've transferred out of here befo- agh!"
(Another eight gunshots are heard, followed by repeated clicking. Subsequent sounds determined to be the replacement of an empty magazine.)
"Ugh… These things… We got to the house where one-eighty-two was, he was lying on the bed, looked dead to the world. Thirty, maybe thirty-five feet away Jβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ and Doc were sitting on the floor, drooling. Well, Doc was. Jβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ was dead. Blood oozing out of his mouth, looked like he bit his own tongue off. All three of us knew what'd happened. I started to see… things. I ran, I don't know about the other guys. I'm holed up in the building, gonna wait for the boat to arrive. Hope I can hold off long enough…"
(Audio recording continued for seventeen minutes, intermittent screams and gunshots can be heard, as well as a door opening twice.)
"I've seen what happens to those guys that go too far. I'm not ending up like that. I'm not going to see those things. Bye."
(A gunshot is heard, tape records two hours of silence. The bodies of Agents β–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ and β–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ were found inside the door, shot by Agent β–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ. Agent β–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ was found next to the recorder, a bullet lodged in his skull.)
Final Incident Report: Subsequent questioning of SCP-182 by replacement personnel revealed that subject 'suffered from horrible, unworldly nightmares' while sedated. Subject displayed elevated levels of stress during interview, and it is theorized that the nightmares experienced by SCP-182 caused enough emotional distress that subject unconsciously created a radius of heightened hallucinatory territory. Subject is henceforth to be denied all sleeping aids.