| ► This is Dr. Jehan Cauvin. If you're reading this, I'm sorry. You're already dead. Hopefully, remnants of my work and notes can assist future iterations of the Research Director. Maybe you can understand the necessity of my sin, but if you cannot, you must continue the work regardless. You're probably under the impression that the implant I, or my successor, gave you, was little more than a tracking implant to ensure you are not 'taken' by an infected individual. This is a lie. The implant is a timed lethal injection, giving you 365 days to solve the threat this SCP poses. This is what we signed up for. Best of luck. |
Registered Phenomena Code: XXX
|
|
Object Class:
Beta-Yellow
|
Hazard Types:
| Hazard Types:Additional Properties: |
Aggression |
Ballistic |
Climatological |
Geological |
Grouped |
Invisibility |
Psychotronic |
Sapient |
Sentient |
Transmutation |
Bio-Hazard |
Contact |
Corrosive |
Electromagnetic Force |
Explosive |
Extreme Temperature |
Radiation |
Toxic |
Destabilization |
Extra-Dimensional |
Gravitational |
Teleportation |
Temporal |
Auditory |
Emotional |
Ideological |
Info-Hazard |
Memory Alteration |
Mind-Control |
Mind-Regression |
Sensory |
Visual |
Animated |
Aquatic |
Digital |
Ecological |
Extra-Terrestrial |
Immeasurable |
Incorporeal |
Mechanical |
Microscopic |
Organic |
Regenerative |
Titanic |
Tychokinetic |
Replicating |
Newtonian |
Ontological |
Divine |
Hallucinogen |
High Velocity |
Proto-Mechanical |
Proto-Newtonian |
Proto-Sapient |
|
General Properties:
| Hazard Types:Additional Properties: |
Aggression |
Ballistic |
Climatological |
Geological |
Grouped |
Invisibility |
Psychotronic |
Sapient |
Sentient |
Transmutation |
Bio-Hazard |
Contact |
Corrosive |
Electromagnetic Force |
Explosive |
Extreme Temperature |
Radiation |
Toxic |
Destabilization |
Extra-Dimensional |
Gravitational |
Teleportation |
Temporal |
Auditory |
Emotional |
Ideological |
Info-Hazard |
Memory Alteration |
Mind-Control |
Mind-Regression |
Sensory |
Visual |
Animated |
Aquatic |
Digital |
Ecological |
Extra-Terrestrial |
Immeasurable |
Incorporeal |
Mechanical |
Microscopic |
Organic |
Regenerative |
Titanic |
Tychokinetic |
Replicating |
Newtonian |
Ontological |
Divine |
Hallucinogen |
High Velocity |
Proto-Mechanical |
Proto-Newtonian |
Proto-Sapient |
|
| ► I've set this to Keter given the fact that it actively resists containment. Unfortunately, I cannot think of a class for an anomaly that is legitimately impossible to contain given its nature. |
| ►► Apollyon is a more fitting class that hadn't existed at the time. I've updated the article. |
| ►►► I've changed it back to Keter. Apollyon implies something far more drastic than a stray cephalopod in a forest. |
| ►►►► If she were alive I'd word this note more strongly. Given the uncontainable nature of the anomaly, I've reverted it to Apollyon. |
| ►►►►► My predecessors have wasted enough time attempting to classify it correctly. Given that we will be the only ones to witness this article, I suggest for future directors to leave it as Apollyon despite my personal objections to it. RAISA isn't going to be checking this for inaccurracies anytime soon. |
Special Containment Procedures: The cement wall surrounding SCP-XXXX-A is to be examined and repaired by Research Station XXXX staff. Special care is to be made to keep the apathy-inducing memetic imagery on the exterior of the wall intact and regularly observed by Authority personnel to retroactively prevent infection.
| ► The memetics are weak, relatively of course. Some sections are not fully covered, some memetics hardly potent enough to have an effect on the average Authority guard. There was not enough time, and I could only risk exposure to so many people during its construction, not to mention I know of only so many cognitohazards to induce apathy. Hopefully, more resources can be allocated to them. I'll ensure my successor has a better understanding of cognitohazards than I. |
| ►► Of course he'd elect me for the job. Well, I've engraved far more potent cognitohazards onto the wall. Wish it was made of sterner stuff, but there was only so much funding for this SCP in his time. |
| ►►► I find the cognitohazards redundant, and it doesn't sit right with me to manipulate all of my staff. I'll remove the requirement to 'regularly observe them'. How they expected that to fly under the radar is beyond me. |
| ►►►► I've added it back. This is ridiculous, there's the same amount of cognitohazards on this damn wall then there are in the average memo. This one's just less subtle. I'll make sure my successor is not as stubborn as Dr. Stridon. |
Given that the memetic lining on the wall is Theophan 4, all assigned personnel are to be screened for a resistance lower than 7 to ensure contamination.
| ►► Updated to 2nd edition. Don't know why he didn't do that before. |
To minimize possible expense and damage to Authority equipment and staff, attempts to terminate RPC-XXXX-B are to be punished in accordance with a Level II infraction given the nature of RPC-XXXX-B.
| ► It's not going to kill them. Yes, even that. The whole dilemma here is that they're going to see SCP-XXXX-A whether you like it or not. We are going to die before we would possibly see it, and if we were, the implant wouldn't work, and we'd choose a different successor. That's the purpose of the implants. |
Level 4/XXXX access must be restricted to a single person to limit the spread of SCP-XXXX-B. To prevent infection of the next Research Director, they are implanted with a [REDACTED] timed chemical implant by the presiding Research Director before their death.
| ► This is where you come in. There is no guarantee, but I believe that having knowledge of SCP-XXXX-A increases the 'risk' of future infection, and that future infection thus produces SCP-XXXX-B instances. However, the SCP cannot be witnessed in the future if you are dead before that point. I've ensured my successor will have none of the symptoms described, thus ensuring that they do not have the infection, and even if they are infected, which they aren't, the infection wouldn't have intensified to a noticeable extent, thus meaning there are at the very least several years before they encounter it. Thus, the timer for the lethal injection is a timer of 365 days. No, I'm not saying what it's an injection of, Joan. |
| ►► Something cliche and uninspired like cyanide or chloral hydrate, probably. Typical. |
| ►►► Swell. I can't figure out how to disarm it without activating it, and it's not like I can get it surgically removed, not only because that'd warrant an investigation into the source, and thus compromising personnel, but also because looking at the design, having it removed from the base of my neck would trigger it anyways. Conveniently, there is nothing in the records of what is actually in the implant. I thought she expected me to create my own implant, but I was a little insulted when I found 20 of these implants in their office. How many of us do they think there will be? |
Description: RPC-XXXX is the collective designation for two directly connected anomalies.
RPC-XXXX-A is an entity of unknown shape, size, or appearance. RPC-XXXX-A is possibly a fictional entity created by victims of RPC-XXXX-B. RPC-XXXX-A is assumedly the physical manifestation of the Erlkoenig described in Germanic folklore. Accounts of the appearance of RPC-XXXX-A vary greatly, often with only a few similarities between each. RPC-XXXX-A designates a series of unusually large cadavers of the Dosidicus gigas, or a Humboldt squid, with a mantle length of 4 meters. RPC-XXXX-A does not decay or rot in any capacity, and any attempt to damage it fails by circumstance.
RPC-XXXX-A's current form is unknown.
| ► This deity is often described as the elf-king by SCP-XXXX-B, and they often draw or depict it as such- a vaguely humanoid fae creature, but oddly enough occasionally a squid of some sort. These accounts grow more accurate (I assume) the closer they come to their future encounter, as the madness grows in intensity. |
| ►► I'm not sure if it even exists. I've never seen what's behind the wall, and these 'accounts' are from the deranged, and even then, deranged people who haven't actually seen it yet. It could just be an illusion of the infection, and I only have the word of a dead Research Director that it isn't a hallucination. |
RPC-XXXX-B are individuals who will encounter RPC-XXXX-A at some point in their lives. Despite any attempt, humane or otherwise, to prevent RPC-XXXX-B from reaching RPC-XXXX-A, all will fail, as a result of improper management, mechanical failure, human error, or the sudden death or incapacitation of Authority personnel attempting to restrain the RPC-XXXX-B instance.
SCP-XXXX-B instances undergo a progressive obsession with SCP-XXXX-A and subjects related to it, increasing in intensity until the instance encounters SCP-XXXX-A, the 'terminal stage' of SCP-XXXX-B. This obsession results in visual and audio hallucinations, delusions, and psychotic episodes, often characterized by the creation of depictions of SCP-XXXX-A in any medium, marked interest in subjects such as cephalopods, marine life at large, germanic folklore, and 'elves' in a variety of cultures.
| ► 'Terminal stage'? If I had more time I would fix the severe lack of clinical tone here, but looking at the records this specific section has been edited so many times I don't imagine it'll ever be correct. |
Addendum 2.A: SCP-XXXX-A Exploration
| ► I believe that the actual threat this SCP poses can only be assessed by first proving this existence. I've called in Counter-Memetic Specialist 9, but most know them as a 'Nullwalker'. She's deaf, blind, and mute, but utilizing a signaling system implanted along her left hand, she can communicate with us, albeit with a delay, along with a series of cybernetic implants to enhance alternative cognition. Yes, I double-checked for signs of SCP-XXXX-B. |
SCP-XXXX Exploration Log I
Mission Objective: Locate and identify the possibly cognitohazardous SCP-XXXX-A.
Mission Personnel:
- Research Director Lorraine Joan.
- Nullwalker CMS-9, real name Dymphna Orbais Gottschalk.
Mission Directive: Specialist 9 has been ordered to approach the perimeter of the wall, enter it, and locate the (hypothetical) SCP-XXXX-A.
Mission Equipment: CMS Nullwalkers are equipped with a variety of cybernetics to allow for two-way non-vocal communication, as well as an advanced environmental register system rig, dubbed the LUCIA, which utilizes an echolocation-based system assisted by EVE readouts to project an image of the area to the user via an MMI, allowing them to 'see' a basic black and white image of reality while not compromising the nullwalker's cognitohazard immunity, utilizing audio and aspect 'pings'. Beyond this, Specialist 9 is equipped with the standard pack, such as rations, flares, as well as a sidearm with 3 loaded magazines. Mission Control can observe via a camera attached to the Specialist's suit, equipped with ACF.
Crunching of leaves can be heard as Specialist 9 walks through the forest. Despite the fog, a large concrete wall comes into view.
9: WALL. PROCEED?
Joan: Looking at the feed, there's a notch there right in front of y- yes, where your hand is now. I think you can fit your foot in and pull yourself over.
Specialist 9, utilizing a notch within the wall, pulls themselves up. They manage to climb over, albeit with some difficulty, by using the edges formed by the symbols carved on the wall. On the way down on the opposite side, their hand slips and they fall approx. 6 feet, managing to brace themselves first.
Joan: Dy? Are you alright?
There is a 4-second pause.
9: YES.
Joan: See any marks or abrasions?
9: BLIND.
Joan: You know what I mean.
9: FEEL BRUISE ALONG SHIN. PAIN IN FOREARM. OTHERWISE FINE. PROCEED?
Joan: I'll have your suit administer a mild painkiller, but yes, proceed towards the center of the containment zone.
Minimal activity for approx. 8 minutes. Pardon occasional animal activity and 'pings' from Specialist 9's LUCIA environment register system, it is silent.
9: NOTHING YET.
Joan: Tracker says you're about a quarter of a kilometer near the center now. What's the LUCIA picking up?
9: TREES. ANIMALS.
Joan: Mmm. Thermal is detecting something big at 3 o'clock, a little to your right. Head that way. It's immobile.
9: MOVING.
30 seconds pass as Specialist approaches unusually large heat signature. Automated Cognitohazard Filter (ACF) blocks visual on the object.
Joan: Dy, filters are blocking it out. What is it?
9: SQUID.
Joan: What?
9: DEAD SQUID. BIG.
Joan: I don't think I understand.
9: LARGE DEAD SQUID.
Joan: What's it doing? Is it moving?
9: NO. DEAD.
Joan: Can you…identify the body?
9: SHAPED LIKE SQUID. There is a brief pause. FEELS LIKE SQUID.
Joan: Why is it wa- Thermals momentarily detect a second heat signature. Wait. Hold on. Pan the camera around.
Specialist turns around, and the camera's thermal filter picks up several other heat signatures in the area, of similar shape to the previous.
9: WHAT.
Joan: I'm detecting several other heat signatures, can you get a visual on them? There's one on your 8.
Specialist turns towards one of the heat signatures and begins moving. ACF expunges image.
9: SQUID.
Joan: Another?
9: YES.
Joan: Excise a sample, then, if you can.
Another pause.
9: KNIFE NOT HERE.
Joan: Which one?
9: BOTH.
Joan: What about your boot knife?
9: NEVER HERE.
Joan: What?
9: ISOLATED █████ ███ CONTINGENT WITHIN █████ ENTROPIC AREA. CONTORTION ████ SPECIALIZATION UNDERWAY. ████.
ACF begins severe distortion of audio and video feed as several audio and video cognitohazards are detected.
Joan: Something's wrong with your signaller, can y-
9: ██████. THE ART OF BECOMING.
Joan: Dy, I need you to calm down. What is going o-
All feed from Specialist 9 cuts abruptly as ACF terminates the connection due to severe cognitohazardous information.
Joan: Dymphna? Dymphna, respond.
Static.
Joan: I…
Static increases in volume and intensity.
Joan: I don't-
Static continues to increase in volume. Dr. Joan presses the power button on the console. Static grows louder. Dr. Joan continues to attempt to disable communications. No response from the device.
Joan: Turn the fu-
Communications cease. Static stops.
END LOG
| ► I've been trying to reestablish connection to her for about a week now. Nothing. I don't understand it. Any of it. From here on, nobody's going in or out. |
| ►► Update. Every now and then the ACF blacks out the entire view from the MAV, for several seconds to a half hour. Each time it occurs, we see more squids. I don't know what it is. Still can't find her. |
Addendum 3.A: SCP-XXXX-B Interview
| ► There's nothing in the record about an interview, which I think is ridiculous. We've got nothing on the actual nature of the infection besides surface-level observations and secondhand sources. Jehan should've done this a while ago. There's a young German boy who was flagged not too long ago, we're having a field agent interview them now. I'm hoping to get a better idea of the 'arc' SCP-XXXX-B instances follow during their lifetimes. |
Interview 1 With SCP-XXXX-B Instance
Interviewed: SCP-XXXX-B-01938, male citizen of Heidelberg, age 12.
Interviewer: Agent 'Shrike'
Real name redacted by request.
Translated from German.
Shrike: Can you please say your name into the recorder for me?
B-01938: My name's Klein.
Shrike: How about your full name?
B-01938: Uh, Martin L█████.
Shrike: Thank you so much. Can you tell me what your favorite animal is?
B-01938: I like dogs, uh, elephants, but I think squids are my favorite.
Shrike: Good, good. What do you think is so interesting about squids?
B-01938: They uh, they're really weird looking, but in a good way. I mean, they have a bunch of arms and stuff.
Shrike: Wow. You know, I also think squids are my favorite. They're so unique! But when did you first hear about squids?
B-01938: I dunno. I think it was because my dad was a researcher, he studied squids and some other stuff.
Shrike: We have so much in common! My father was a marine biologist. They study all the cool animals in the water. But what did your dad do to make you so interested?
B-01938: He'd take me to the aquarium.
Brief pause.
Shrike: My dad…also liked to take me. When did he start?
B-01938 shrugs.
B-01938: I uh, first remember going when I was 6. I remember seeing this big squid in one of the tanks. I was looking at it the whole time, it was really cool, and I think it was looking at me.
Shrike looks towards the camera hidden in the corner of the room, before looking back towards 01938.
Shrike: …what color was it?
B-01938: Huh?
Shrike stands up and walks over to 01938.
Shrike: What color was the squid?
B-01938: It- I think it was red…
Agent Shrike removes her microphone and leaves the room. Arguing between Shrike and other Authority personnel can be heard outside the room. 01938 appears distressed. Interview ends.
| ► Agent 'Shrike' has been flagged as B-01975. |
Interview 3 With SCP-XXXX-B Instance
Interviewed: SCP-XXXX-B-01975
Interviewer: Dr. Stridon
Stridon: Please state your name for the record.
B-01975: I am already dead. You're wasting your time.
Stridon: State your name.
B-01975: How is this supposed to help?
Stridon: I'm not going to rep-
B-01975: What- am I just supposed to go through this whole song and dance again? It's over for me, Stridon. You know that. It's over.
B-01975: Do you think you're stronger than it?
Stridon: Please comply with the requests and sit down.
B-01975: You are deluded. You think I'm trapped, but look at you. You are in this prison of your own design. Crafted by the hands of your predecessors. But for what purpose? You have built a cage, but which of us is it for?
B-01975 breaks the handcuffs around their wrists, as due to a previously unnoticed error in production several weeks ago, a link was defective.
B-01975: All your efforts. They were for this moment. For this gift. I have seen it, the look in your eyes. The fear.
Stridon: I have no idea what you're talking about. There are armed guards right outside this door. Sit down, or-
B-01975: Go. Call the guards. You couldn't even bring them into this cell in the first place, they might have learned of their true nature, as swine before a king, a god, a lord of the forest and the creatures within it.
Dr. Stridon hits a button beneath their desk. 2 armed guards enter. One draws their sidearm.
Stridon: Detain him right now.
Due to an electrical fault, the power deactivates. Lighting temporarily disabled.
Several gunshots ring out. After a period of 20 seconds, emergency lighting activates. Stridon is prone on the floor. No other personnel is within the room, pardon an assumedly deceased guard in a corner opposite the camera bleeding out from several bullet holes.
| ► I trusted them. I thought Foundation personnel screening was enough. I lessened restrictions because we hadn't had one of our own turn on us so far. I had to, we needed more staff, it wasn't enough for all of the people we have contained here. We had 24 RPC-XXXX-B instances in containment. 22 escaped, and 4 staff have disappeared. I am updating the procedures. Do not perform interviews with RPC-XXXX-B instances under any circumstance. |
It is currently assumed that RPC-XXXX-B instances encountering RPC-XXXX-A is seemingly unstoppable possibly preventable inevitable.
| ► Nothing works, but only so far. With future technological developments, we can find a way. The rate of SCP-XXXX-B instances has, at the very least, decreased from before. Maybe that's enough for me. Dr. Joan is being implanted now. I only have 2 hours left. I wish you all the best. Goodbye. |
| ►► I thought I could do it. Maybe it's pride, maybe it's selfishness, maybe it's the human condition. I'm so tired. I don't know how we'll be able to stop it. Maybe someone else can. Maybe Stridon, maybe not. Hopefully someone better than me. Goodbye. |
| ►►► I can't stand it. This thing has been eating away at me. Every single second wasted bickering and arguing, and for what? I wasn't enough. I was never enough. Goodbye. |
| ►►►► Stridon always was a fool. Maybe his greatest mistake was thinking I wasn't. Goodbye. |
| ►►►►► I ordered an explosive payload dropped on SCP-XXXX-A's assumed location. Some freak accident resulted in the premature detonation of the bombs before they were dropped, killing everyone on board. Would you believe me if I told you I ordered another? 1 hour left. Goodbye. |
| ►►►►►►►►►►►►►►►► I am yet another research director of this damned abomination. I am the yet another director doomed to die from the moment they were born, for in some then-unknown future I would see the email informing me of Johann Kolmann's death from 'unknown causes', and his election of myself as his successor. I was chosen, by fate, God, or that elf-king to be here, at this moment. I do not know how much time I have left, if any even remains. But this…madness, the constant bickering and fighting amidst the dead and dying, it has produced nothing but more bodies to the ever-growing pile. I think my predecessors were riddled with an illness we cannot cure, pride. They believed they would be different, they believed they could defeat the creature hiding within the forest. They were wrong. Maybe there is a way, perhaps a cure can be created. But for now, we toil and labor for reasons unknown and unseen, for purposes even we have forgotten. How many of us there are, I dare not know, and no possible method of calculating it. So many names and voices forever lost to this pit of delusion and derision. So many minds sacrificed on an altar to this anomaly, and for what reason I cannot know. The cycle of guilt, self-destruction, and madness, all ends here. I'm sorry Kolmann, but I will not perpetuate it any longer. The file will be deleted, the logs erased, the site decommissioned. This, all of this, will be nothing more than another blackbox on the long list of secret things hidden in this place. The god will live on, hidden behind the barrier of absent information and occult concrete, and will continue to lure its brides still. We could never stop that. But we can hide it, cover it, lay it under the Veil as we have done so many times. 30 minutes remain on the implant. To you, my curious investigator, who found a file unintended for them, a secret kept hidden for so long, I ask you to turn away, to burn the memory from your mind. It was never yours to begin with. Goodbye. |