|-SCP-049-| (The Plague Doctor)

Item #: SCP-049 Object Class: Euclid Special Containment Procedures: SCP-049 is contained within a Standard Secure Humanoid Containment Cell in Research Sector-02 at Site-19. SCP-049 must be sedated before any attempts to transport it. During transport, SCP-049 must be secured within a Class III Humanoid Restriction Harness (including a locking collar and extension restraints) and monitored by no fewer than two armed guards. While SCP-049 is generally cooperative with most Foundation personnel, outbursts or sudden changes in behaviour are to be met with elevated force. Under no circumstances should any personnel come into direct contact with SCP-049 during these outbursts. In the event SCP-049 becomes aggressive, the application of lavender (L. multifida) has been shown to produce a calming effect on the entity. Once calmed, SCP-049 generally becomes compliant, and will return to containment with little resistance. In order to facilitate the ongoing containment of SCP-049, the entity is to be provided with the corpse of a recently deceased animal (typically a bovine or other large mammal) once every two weeks for study. Corpses that become instances of SCP-049-2 are to be removed from SCP-049's containment cell and incinerated. SCP-049 is no longer permitted to interact with human subjects, and requests for human subjects are to be denied. Temporary Containment Procedure Update: (See Addendum 049.3) Per Containment Committee Order 049.S19.17.1, SCP-049 is no longer permitted to interact directly with any members of Foundation staff, nor is it to be provided with any additional corpses to be used in its surgeries. This order shall persist indefinitely, until such time a consensus regarding the ongoing containment of SCP-049 can be reached. Description: SCP-049 is a humanoid entity, roughly 1.9 meters in height, which bears the appearance of a medieval plague doctor. While SCP-049 appears to be wearing the thick robes and the ceramic mask indicative of that profession, the garments instead seem to have grown out of SCP-049's body over time1, and are now nearly indistinguishable from whatever form is beneath them. X-rays indicate that despite this, SCP-049 does have a humanoid skeletal structure beneath its outer layer. SCP-049 is capable of speech in a variety of languages, though tends to prefer English or medieval French2. While SCP-049 is generally cordial and cooperative with Foundation staff, it can become especially irritated or at times outright aggressive if it feels that it is in the presence of what it calls the "Pestilence". Although the exact nature of this Pestilence is currently unknown to Foundation researchers, it does seem to be an issue of immense concern to SCP-049. SCP-049 will become hostile with individuals it sees as being affected by the Pestilence, often having to be restrained should it encounter such. If left unchecked, SCP-049 will generally attempt to kill any such individual; SCP-049 is capable of causing all biological functions of an organism to cease through direct skin contact. How this occurs is currently unknown, and autopsies of SCP-049's victims have invariably been inconclusive. SCP-049 has expressed frustration or remorse after these killings, indicating that they have done little to kill "The Pestilence", though will usually seek to then perform a crude surgery on the corpse using the implements contained within a black doctor's bag it carries on its person at all times3. While these surgeries are not always "successful", they often result in the creation of instances of SCP-049-2. SCP-049-2 instances are reanimated corpses that have been operated on by SCP-049. These instances do not seem to retain any of their prior memories or mental functions, having only basic motor skills and response mechanisms. While these instances are generally inactive, moving very little and in a generally ambulatory fashion, they can become extremely aggressive if provoked, or if directed to by SCP-049. SCP-049-2 instances express active biological functions, though these are vastly different from currently understood human physiology. Despite these alterations, SCP-049 often remarks that the subjects have been "cured". Addendum 049.1: Discovery SCP-049 was discovered during the investigation of a series of unknown disappearances in the town of Montauban in southern France. During a raid on a local home, investigators found several instances of SCP-049-2, as well as SCP-049. While law enforcement personnel engaged the hostile 049-2 instances, SCP-049 was noted as watching the engagement and taking notes in its journal. After all of the 049-2 instances were dispatched, SCP-049 willingly entered Foundation custody. Interviewer's Note: While SCP-049 is capable of communicating in a very human way, there is a strange sense of unease that one experiences when in its presence. Make no mistake, there is something very uncanny about this entity indeed. Additionally, we've confiscated that pointed stick that SCP-049 keeps waving around. Part of this was due to standard confiscation protocols for the possessions of anomalies, and part because 049 really is a menace swinging it around like he does. The entity was displeased at first, but after we made some concessions in providing it with "test subjects" (which are, admittedly, more for the benefit of our own research) it warmed up to the idea. He has a bit of a history with SCP-035, and will probably encounter him occasionally. Special Containment Procedures: SCP-035 is to be kept within a hermetically sealed glass case, no fewer than 10 centimeters (4 inches) thick. This case is to be contained within a steel, iron and lead-shielded room at all times. Doors are to be triple-locked at all times, with the exception of allowing personnel in or out. No fewer than two (2) armed guards are to be posted at any time. Guards must remain outside at all times and are not allowed within the containment room under any circumstances. A trained psychologist is to remain on site at all times. Research personnel are not to touch SCP-035 at any time. SCP-035 must be moved to a new sealed case every two (2) weeks. The previous case must be disposed of via SCP-101, as it shows no adverse reactions to SCP-035's “corruption”. Anyone who comes into contact with SCP-035 when it is in possession of a host is to be given an immediate psychological evaluation. Description: SCP-035 appears to be a white porcelain comedy mask, although, at times, it will change to tragedy. In these events, all existing visual records, such as photographs, video footage, even illustrations, of SCP-035 automatically change to reflect its new appearance. A highly corrosive and degenerative viscous liquid constantly seeps from the eye and mouth holes of SCP-035. Anything coming into contact with this substance slowly decays over a period of time, depending on the material, until it has decayed completely into a pool of the original contaminant. Glass seems to react the slowest to the effects of the item, hence the construction choice of its immediate container. Living organisms that come into contact with the substance react much the same way, with no chance of recovery. Origin of the liquid is unknown. Liquid is only visible from the front, and does not emerge or is even visible from the other side. Subjects within 1.5 to 2 meters (5-6 feet) of SCP-035, or in visual contact with it, experience a strong urge to put it on. When SCP-035 is placed on the face of an individual, an alternate brain wave pattern from SCP-035 overlaps that of the original host, effectively snuffing it out and causing brain death to the subject. Subject then claims to be the consciousness contained within SCP-035. The bodies of "possessed" subjects decay at a highly accelerated rate, eventually becoming little more than mummified corpses. Nevertheless, SCP-035 has demonstrated the ability to remain in cognitive control of a body experiencing severe structural damage, even if the subject's body literally decays to the point where motion is not mechanically possible. No effect is found to be had when placed on the face of an animal. Conversations with SCP-035 have proven to be informative. Researchers have learned various details about other SCP objects and history in general, as SCP-035 claims to have been at many momentous events. SCP-035 displays a highly intelligent and charismatic personality, being both amiable and flattering to all those who speak with it. SCP-035 has scored in the 99th percentile on all intelligence and aptitude tests administered to it, and appears to have a photographic memory. However, psychological analysis has discovered SCP-035 to possess a highly manipulative nature, capable of forcing sudden and profound changes to interviewer's psychological state. SCP-035 has proven to be highly sadistic, prompting some to commit suicide and transforming others into near-mindless servants with linguistic persuasion alone. SCP-035 has stated that it has intimate knowledge of the workings of the human mind and implied that it could change anyone's views if given enough time. Additional: SCP-035 was found in a sealed crypt in an abandoned house in Venice, in 18██. Addendum 035-01: SCP-035 has been found to be able to possess anything that has a humanoid shape, including mannequins, corpses, and statues. SCP-035 has been able to motivate all into movement, removing the need to expose live subjects to SCP-035. Still, anything it possesses inevitably decays into motionlessness. Addendum 035-02: SCP-035 has facilitated an escape attempt, convincing several of the research staff to aid it in its bid for freedom. Insurrection failed. All staff that have been in contact with SCP-035 have been terminated, and mandatory psychiatric evaluations have been implemented for all personnel coming in contact with SCP-035. Addendum 035-03: It has been determined that SCP-035 is capable of telepathy, whether or not it possesses a host, even penetrating to the subconscious of others, and using the knowledge it finds to its advantage. Extreme caution is advised when choosing subjects to converse with SCP-035. Addendum 035-04: SCP-035 has expressed an interest in other SCPs, most notably SCP-4715 and SCP-682. Dr. ██████ has expressed worry that should SCP-035 bond with either, their regenerative qualities would negate its corruption and give it a permanent host. Addendum 035-05: After several more escape attempts, and after reviewing SCP-035's incident record, high command has ordered that it be permanently sealed within the facility and prohibited from being allowed any more hosts. Several personnel have protested against this, with some even erupting into violence. As a direct result, all personnel that have come into contact with SCP-035 have been terminated. Going forward, all personnel that deal with SCP-035 are to be rotated frequently, and contact is to be limited even to its dormant state to as little as possible. Addendum 035-06: Personnel within 10 meters of SCP-035 have recently reported feeling unease, stating that they can hear unintelligible whispering. Several others have suffered from severe migraines. Object has been monitored, but there is no change in its dormant behavior, and no sounds have been recorded. The motion to reinstate SCP-035's host privileges has been brought up once more, if only on a temporary basis to discover these new changes in the object's behavior. (Denied) Addendum 035-07: The walls of SCP-035's containment cell have suddenly begun secreting a black substance. Tests on the substance have revealed it to be human blood, although highly contaminated with several foreign and unknown agents. Substance is corrosive, having a pH of 4.5, and prolonged exposure to the walls has proven to be detrimental to their structural integrity. More notably, it seems to be forming patterns on the walls. Several segments seem to be paragraphs in various languages, including Italian, Latin, Greek, and Sanskrit. Translation is pending. Other segments appear to be diagrams depicting ritualistic sacrifice and mutilation, often for the arcane benefit of the person committing them. Several staff members have been shocked to note that all of the sacrifices bear an uncanny resemblance to various personnel and their loved ones, often in conflicting positions. Researchers while in the room examining these newly formed patterns have complained of hearing loud whispering, and high pitched, unnerving laughter at irregular intervals. Personnel in the section working daily near and around SCP-035's containment unit have suffered catastrophic morale damage, with an all time high in suicide rates in staff in that area, whether or not they have ever had contact with SCP-035. The only change in SCP-035's dormant behavior is regarding its contained glass case. Degradation of the case has increased to a high degree, enough so that the glass will occasionally shatter, causing a wide dispersal of SCP-035's contaminant. This occurs quite often at the most inopportune times, so far resulting in six (6) casualties and three (3) fatalities of both research and cleanup staff. Addendum 035-08: In light of the mass suicide/homicide of the members of the research team tasked with translating the passages garnered from SCP-035's containment cell, the morale damage in the area, and general loss of staff dealing with SCP-035 to either death or insanity, it has been decided to coat the inner and outer walls of its containment cell with SCP-148, which has proved well in the containment of SCP-132 (see Document 132-01), in order to hopefully block out the high levels of negativity being emitted by SCP-035. Addendum 035-09: The use of SCP-148 has worked well, causing morale and suicide rates to return to near pre-SCP-035 rates. However, the material appears to facilitate the negativity within the cell, causing a veritable "Greenhouse Effect" inside. Personnel inside the cell have stated that they feel a heavy sense of dread, fear, anger, and general depression, as well as hearing constant, nearly inaudible whispering upon immediate entry. A prolonged stay causes severe migraines, suicidal tendencies, heavy hemorrhaging of blood vessels around the eyes and inside the mouth and nose, general hostility to others, and for the whispering to increase to almost deafening volumes, intersected by a constant mocking laughter. Exposure of more than three (3) hours inevitably results in the subject falling into a deep psychosis, and attempting to harm either themselves or others. Most spoke in Latin or Greek, despite the fact that several did not previously know how to speak said languages beforehand. The presence of blood in both word and diagram formations has increased disproportionately, the walls becoming cluttered, and the formations beginning to overlap each other. The substance has proven to be both difficult to clean, and even more corrosive than was originally recorded, with a pH of roughly 2.4. General estimation gives the current walls a life of two (2) months before they will need replacement. It is becoming gradually more and more difficult to contain SCP-035, and the debate to reinstate its host privileges has once again come up. (Denied) Addendum 035-10: The walls, ceiling and floor of SCP-035's containment cell have now been completely saturated in blood. All personnel entering and guarding the area must wear full Hazmat protection suits. Constant cleaning efforts are being instated. Addendum 035-11: The magnitude, intensity, and recurrence of the phenomena that occur within SCP-035's containment cell have increased to an alarming degree. The cell door has been known to become locked of its own accord while personnel are inside, and unable to be opened for a period of time. Appendages form out of the larger puddles of blood and often attempt to grab or harm personnel near them. Blurry apparitions have started appearing to staff. Electronic devices no longer work inside the cell, and the light cannot be turned on, though there is no physical reason why it does not work, forcing those entering to use non-electric based light sources. Cleaning measures are having no discernible effect on the cell, and the walls are degrading at a very high rate, forcing them to be replaced within a week at best, although the blood makes it nearly impossible to properly achieve this. SCP-035 may have to be moved to a new cell entirely, with the old one sealed off and disengaged from the rest of the facility. Other SCPs will be in this bot. Item #: SCP-096 Object Class: Euclid Special Containment Procedures: SCP-096 is to be contained in its cell, a 5 m x 5 m x 5 m airtight steel cube, at all times. Weekly checks for any cracks or holes are mandatory. There are to be absolutely no video surveillance or optical tools of any kind inside SCP-096's cell. Security personnel will use pre-installed pressure sensors and laser detectors to ensure SCP-096's presence inside the cell. Any and all photos, video, or recordings of SCP-096's likeness are strictly forbidden without approval from Dr. ███ and O5-█. Description: SCP-096 is a humanoid creature measuring approximately 2.38 meters in height. Subject shows very little muscle mass, with preliminary analysis of body mass suggesting mild malnutrition. Arms are grossly out of proportion with the rest of the subject's body, with an approximate length of 1.5 meters each. Skin is mostly devoid of pigmentation, with no sign of any body hair. SCP-096's jaw can open to four (4) times the norm of an average human. Other facial features remain similar to an average human, with the exception of the eyes, which are also devoid of pigmentation. It is not yet known whether SCP-096 is blind or not. It shows no signs of any higher brain functions, and is not considered to be sapient. SCP-096 is normally extremely docile, with pressure sensors inside its cell indicating it spends most of the day pacing by the eastern wall. However, when someone views SCP-096's face, whether it be directly, via video recording, or even a photograph, it will enter a stage of considerable emotional distress. SCP-096 will cover its face with its hands and begin screaming, crying, and babbling incoherently. Approximately one (1) to two (2) minutes after the first viewing, SCP-096 will begin running to the person who viewed its face (who will from this point on be referred to as SCP-096-1). Documented speeds have varied from thirty-five (35) km/h to ███ km/h, and seems to depend on distance from SCP-096-1. At this point, no known material or method can impede SCP-096's progress. The actual position of SCP-096-1 does not seem to affect SCP-096's response; it seems to have an innate sense of SCP-096-1's location. Note: This reaction does not occur when viewing artistic depictions (see Document 096-1). Upon arriving at SCP-096-1's location, SCP-096 will proceed to kill and [DATA EXPUNGED] SCP-096-1. 100% of cases have left no traces of SCP-096-1. SCP-096 will then sit down for several minutes before regaining its composure and becoming docile once again. It will then attempt to make its way back to its natural habitat, [DATA REDACTED] Due to the possibility of a mass chain reaction, including breach of Foundation secrecy and large civilian loss of life, retrieval of subject should be considered Alpha priority. Item #: SCP-106 Object Class: Keter Special Containment Procedures: REVISION 11-6 REVISION 11-7 REVISION 11-8 No physical interaction with SCP-106 is allowed at any time. All physical interaction must be approved by no less than a two-thirds vote from O5-Command. Any such interaction must be undertaken in AR-II maximum security sites, after a general non-essential staff evacuation. All staff (Research, Security, Class D, etc.) are to remain at least sixty meters away from the containment cell at all times, except in the event of breach events. SCP-106 is to be contained in a sealed container, comprised of lead-lined steel. The container will be sealed within forty layers of identical material, each layer separated by no less than 36cm of empty space. Support struts between layers are to be randomly spaced. Container is to remain suspended no less than 60cm from any surface by ELO-IID electromagnetic supports. Secondary containment area is to be comprised of sixteen spherical “cells”, each filled with various fluids and a random assembly of surfaces and supports. Secondary containment is to be fitted with light systems, capable of flooding the entire assembly with no less than 80,000 lumens of light instantly with no direct human involvement. Both containment areas are to remain under 24 hour surveillance. Any corrosion observed on any containment cell surfaces, staff members, or other site locations within two hundred meters of SCP-106 are to be reported to Site Security immediately. Any objects or personnel lost to SCP-106 are to be deemed missing/KIA. No recovery attempts are to be made under any circumstances. Note: Continued research and observation have shown that, when faced with highly complex/random assemblies of structures, SCP-106 can be “confused”, showing a marked delay on entry and exit from said structure. SCP-106 has also shown an aversion to direct, sudden light. This is not manifested in any form of physical damage, but a rapid exit in to the “pocket dimension” generated on solid surfaces. These observations, along with those of lead-aversion and liquid confusion, have reduced the general escape incidents by 43%. The “primary” cells have also been effective in recovery incidents requiring Recall Protocol ██ -███ -█. Observation is ongoing. 106door.png Corrosion damage on the initial recovery cell. Containment procedures have since been revised. Description: SCP-106 appears to be an elderly humanoid, with a general appearance of advanced decomposition. This appearance may vary, but the “rotting” quality is observed in all forms. SCP-106 is not exceptionally agile, and will remain motionless for days at a time, waiting for prey. SCP-106 is also capable of scaling any vertical surface and can remain suspended upside down indefinitely. When attacking, SCP-106 will attempt to incapacitate prey by damaging major organs, muscle groups, or tendons, then pull disabled prey into its pocket dimension. SCP-106 appears to prefer human prey items in the 10-25 years of age bracket. SCP-106 causes a “corrosion” effect in all solid matter it touches, engaging a physical breakdown in materials several seconds after contact. This is observed as rusting, rotting, and cracking of materials, and the creation of a black, mucus-like substance similar to the material coating SCP-106. This effect is particularly detrimental to living tissues, and is assumed to be a “pre-digestion” action. Corrosion continues for six hours after contact, after which the effect appears to “burn out”. SCP-106 is capable of passing through solid matter, leaving behind a large patch of its corrosive mucus. SCP-106 is able to “vanish” inside solid matter, entering what is assumed to be a form of “pocket dimension”. SCP-106 is then able to exit this dimension from any point connected to the initial entry point (examples: “entering” the inner wall of a room, and “exiting” the outer wall. Entering a wall, and exiting from the ceiling). It is unknown if this is the point of origin for SCP-106, or a simple “lair” created by SCP-106. Limited observation of this “pocket dimension” has shown it to be comprised mostly of halls and rooms, with [DATA EXPUNGED] entry. This activity can continue for days, with some subjected individuals being released for the express purpose of hunting, recapture, [DATA EXPUNGED]. Addendum: SCP Review Notes: Due to the exceedingly difficult-to-contain nature of SCP-106, SCP is to be reviewed every three months or during a post-breach incident. Physical restraints are impossible, and direct physical damage appears to have no effect on SCP-106. Current SCP, as of ██/██/████, revolves around basic observation and immediate response. Previous, more proactive special containment procedures have been recalled due to the events of breaches ██, ███, ██, █, and ████. Notes on behavior: SCP-106 appears to go through long periods of “dormancy”, in which it will remain completely motionless for up to three months. The cause for this is unknown; however, it has been shown that this appears to be used as a “lulling” tactic. SCP-106 will emerge from this state in a very agitated state, and will attack and abduct staff and cause gross damage to its containment cell and the site at large. Recall Protocol [DATA EXPUNGED]. SCP-106 appears to hunt and attack based on desire, not hunger. SCP-106 will attack and collect multiple prey items during a hunting behavior event, keeping many “alive” in the pocket dimension for extended periods of time. SCP-106 has no determinable “limit”, and appears to collect a random number of prey items during an event. The inner dimension accessed by SCP-106 appears to be only accessible by SCP-106. Recording and transmission devices have been shown to still operate inside this dimension, though recordings and transmissions are very degraded. It appears that SCP-106 will “play” with captured prey, and appears to have full control of time, space, and perception inside this dimension. SCP-106 appears [DATA EXPUNGED]. Recall Protocol ██ -███ -█: In the event of a breach event by SCP-106, a human within the 10-25 years of age bracket will be prepped for recall, with the compromised containment cell being replaced and restored for use. When the cell is ready, the lure subject will be injured, preferably via the breakage of a long bone, such as the femur, or the severing of a major tendon, such as the Achilles Tendon. Lure subject will then be placed in the prepped cell, and the sound emitted by said subject will be transmitted over the site public address system. 106victimresize.png Agent █████, after "release" by SCP-106. Subject had been missing for two hours. Subject remained alive for one hour after release. SCP-106 will typically begin to gravitate toward the lure subject within ten to fifteen minutes after hearing the subject. Should SCP-106 not respond to the initial broadcast, additional physical trauma is to be administered to the lure subject at twenty-minute intervals until SCP-106 responds. Multiple lure subjects may be used in the case of major breach events. SCP-106 will typically enter a dormant state after finishing with a lure subject. In addition, subjects may [DATA EXPUNGED]. Item #: SCP-999 Object Class: Safe Special Containment Procedures: SCP-999 is allowed to freely roam the facility should it desire to, but otherwise must stay in its pen either between 8PM-9PM for sleeping, or during emergency lockdowns for its own safety. Subject is not allowed out of its pen at night or off facility grounds at any time. Pen is to be kept clean and food replaced twice daily. All personnel are allowed inside SCP-999’s holding area, but only if they are not assigned to other tasks at the time, or if they are on break. Subject is to be played with when bored and spoken to in a calm, non-threatening tone. Description: SCP-999 appears to be a large, amorphous, gelatinous mass of translucent orange slime, weighing about 54 kg (120 lbs) with a consistency similar to that of peanut butter. Subject’s size and shape is easily malleable and can change shape at will, though when at rest, SCP-999 becomes a rounded, oblate dome roughly 2 meters wide and 1 meter in height. The surface of SCP-999 consists of a thin, transparent membrane similar to that of an animal cell roughly .5 cm thick, and is highly elastic, allowing SCP-999 to flatten portions of its body up to 2 cm thin. This surface is also hydrophobic, although SCP-999 can willfully absorb liquids (see Addendum SCP-999-A). The rest of SCP-999's body is filled with a viscous orange substance of unknown chemical makeup, though it is capable of digesting organic materials with ease. Subject’s temperament is best described as playful and dog-like: when approached, SCP-999 will often react with overwhelming elation, slithering over to the nearest person and leaping upon them, “hugging” them with a pair of pseudopods while nuzzling the person’s face with a third pseudopod, all the while emitting high-pitched gurgling and cooing noises. The surface of SCP-999 emits a pleasing odor that differs with whomever it is interacting with. Recorded scents include chocolate, fresh laundry, bacon, roses, and Play-Doh™. Simply touching SCP-999’s surface causes an immediate mild euphoria, which intensifies the longer one is exposed to SCP-999, and lasts long after separation from the creature. Subject’s favorite activity is "tickle-wrestling", often by completely enveloping a person from the neck down and tickling them until asked to stop (though it does not always immediately comply with this request). Though injuries may occur, SCP-999 has never been found to purposefully attempt to harm others, and will immediately back away and contract its body into a quivering mound while gurgling in a matter similar to a whimpering dog, seemingly "apologizing" for hurting someone on accident. While the creature will interact with anyone, it seems to have a special interest in those who are unhappy or hurt in any way. Persons suffering from crippling depression or PTSD, for example, have reported having a far more positive outlook on life after multiple interactions with SCP-999. The possibility of manufacturing antidepressants from SCP-999's slime is currently being discussed. In addition to its playful behavior, SCP-999 seems to love all animals (especially humans), refusing to eat any meat and even risking its own life to save others, on one occasion leaping in front of a person to take a bullet fired at them (subject’s intellect is still up for debate: though its behavior is infantile, it seems to understand human speech and most modern technology, including guns). SCP-999’s diet consists entirely of candy and sweets, with M&M’s™ and Necco™ wafers being its favorites. Its eating methods are similar to those of an amoeba. Item #: SCP-1048 Object Class: Safe Keter Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1048 is currently free to roam Site 24, as it poses no threat and has been observed to greatly improve the morale of personnel that interact with it. The whereabouts of SCP-1048 are currently unknown, though it is still believed to be somewhere in Site 24. Subject is to be secured for containment, but any creation of SCP-1048's should be destroyed on sight, unless further evidence warrants less extreme actions. No teddy bears are to be allowed in Site 24 to prevent any confusion or mistaken identity. Any object that resembles a teddy bear is to be reported to the security team immediately. -This is not a joke. We have no idea what SCP-1048's full capabilities are. Who knows how many of the damn things are out there by now? - Dr. Carver Description: SCP-1048 is a small teddy bear, approximately 33 cm in height. Through testing, composition of the subject revealed no unusual qualities that make it discernible from a non-sapient teddy bear. Subject is capable of moving of its own accord, and can communicate through a small range of gestures. The subject regularly shows affection to individuals in ways found endearing by most people. Affection is usually given in the form of a hug to the lower leg, but subject has also been observed dancing, jumping in place, and in two separate events it has even drawn child-like pictures for janitorial staff. All Foundation personnel that have interacted with the subject have responded positively to its affection, even D-class with normally sociopathic tendencies. Attempts at direct communication with SCP-1048 have not been considered successful. Though it is capable of simple gestures to indicate a "yes" or "no" answer, it will often not react to lines of questioning concerning its nature or where it originated from. It is not known if this is because SCP-1048 simply does not know the answers, or because it does not want to answer. Though capable of drawing pictures, it has not used its art as a form of communication beyond showing affection, even when encouraged to do so. The more anomalous behavior of SCP-1048 was not observed until approximately 7 months after it was originally secured. It is hypothesized that the subject is able to construct crude replicas of itself using various materials, by a process that has yet to be observed directly by Foundation staff. Dr. Carver has suggested that SCP-1048 uses its endearing qualities to lull those around it in to a false sense of security, allowing it to collect materials to produce these creations. Currently, there are 3 known creations of SCP-1048, designated SCP-1048-A, SCP-1048-B, and SCP-1048-C. The nature of these creations has been in stark contrast to SCP-1048's general behavior, as all have exhibited extreme violence towards humans. SCP-1048-A: On ██/██/████, SCP-1048-A was discovered wandering Site 24, accompanied by SCP-1048. Subject resembles a teddy bear similar in size and shape to SCP-1048, but is made entirely out of human ears. Witnesses interviewed reported that it appeared SCP-1048 was giving a "tour" of Site 24 to SCP-1048-A. Dr. Carver was called to the scene, along with a security team. The security team arrived first, and attempted to contain SCP-1048-A. Subject emitted a high-pitched shriek that inflicted intense pain in the eyes and ears of everyone in a 10 meter radius. Ear-like growths immediately began growing on those within 5 meters of the subject, covering their bodies in less than 20 seconds. Every person afflicted with this symptom died within 3 minutes, resulting in the death of ██ personnel, including the entire security team. Autopsies revealed the cause of death to be asphyxiation caused by an abundance of the ear-like growths manifesting in the mouths and tracheae of all victims. SCP-1048 and SCP-1048-A fled the scene before Dr. Carver arrived, and have not been contained since the incident, though sightings of both have been reported on multiple occasions. Shortly after this incident occurred, a researcher was discovered missing an ear. According to him, it was removed through unknown means while he was sleeping. No other victims of ear removal were found, so it is unclear if SCP-1048 obtained more ears from another source, or if it is capable of duplicating objects or materials. SCP-1048-B: Subject was discovered by several Foundation staff members in the cafeteria of Site 24 on ██/██/████. Subject's appearance was nearly identical to SCP-1048, but it moved in an irregular, jerky manner. Witnesses reported that it appeared as if something was moving inside of SCP-1048-B. Subject made no attempt to interact initially, until a burst in its seams revealed what appeared to be the hand and arm of a human infant poking out and grasping at the air. At the sight of this, a female researcher named ████ ██████ screamed, and SCP-1048-B reacted by emitting a high-pitched cry similar to that of a human infant. The subject then attempted to [DATA EXPUNGED] the screaming researcher, causing massive internal damage. In the ensuing chaos, a security team was forced to [REDACTED] both the researcher and SCP-1048-B. Approximately 3 hours after this incident, Dr. ██████ was found unconscious and bleeding in her office. An abortion had been performed on her while she was sleeping, and the 8-month-old fetus was never found. It is hypothesized that SCP-1048 used Dr. ██████'s unborn child to create SCP-1048-B. Information regarding the possible origin of SCP-1048-B is not to be leaked to the survivors currently undergoing therapy for the incident with SCP-1048-B, as Dr. Carver believes it would be extremely detrimental to their recovery. SCP-1048-C: Subject resembles a teddy bear similar to SCP-1048, but composed entirely of rusted metal scraps. Subject was first sighted on ██/██/████ by Dr. Carver in his office while writing up a report on the SCP-1048-B incident. Subject fled the room when it noticed Dr. Carver observing it. In the attempted pursuit of SCP-1048-C, Dr. Carver witnessed the death and maiming of █ Foundation personnel as the subject exhibited extreme violence during its escape. SCP-1048-C has not been encountered since this initial sighting, and it is unknown whether it still resides somewhere within Site 24. The origins of any materials possibly used to construct SCP-1048-C by SCP-1048 are also unknown at this time. X monster8editub9-new.jpg SCP-682 shortly after escaping from containment, still recovering from acid immersion. Item #: SCP-682 Object Class: Keter Special Containment Procedures: SCP-682 must be destroyed as soon as possible. At this time, no means available to SCP teams are capable of destroying SCP-682, only able to cause massive physical damage. SCP-682 should be contained within a 5 m x 5 m x 5 m chamber with 25 cm reinforced acid-resistant steel plate lining all inside surfaces. The containment chamber should be filled with hydrochloric acid until SCP-682 is submerged and incapacitated. Any attempts of SCP-682 to move, speak, or breach containment should be reacted to quickly and with full force as called for by the circumstances. Personnel are forbidden to speak to SCP-682, for fear of provoking a rage-state. All unauthorized personnel attempting to communicate to SCP-682 will be restrained and removed by force. Due to its frequent attempts at containment breach, difficulty of containment and incapacitation, and high threat of Foundation Exposure, SCP-682 is to be contained in site [REDACTED]. The Foundation will use the best of its resources to maintain all land within fifty (50) kilometers clear of human development. Description: SCP-682 is a large, vaguely reptile-like creature of unknown origin. It appears to be extremely intelligent, and was observed to engage in complex communication with SCP-079 during their limited time of exposure. SCP-682 appears to have a hatred of all life, which has been expressed in several interviews during containment. (See Addendum 682-B). SCP-682 has always been observed to have extremely high strength, speed, and reflexes, though exact levels vary with its form. SCP-682's physical body grows and changes very quickly, growing or decreasing in size as it consumes or sheds material. SCP-682 gains energy from anything it ingests, organic or inorganic. Digestion seems to be aided by a set of filtering gills inside of SCP-682's nostrils, which are able to remove usable matter from any liquid solution, enabling it to constantly regenerate from the acid it is contained in. SCP-682's regenerative capabilities and resilience are staggering, and SCP-682 has been seen moving and speaking with its body 87% destroyed or rotted. In case of containment breach, SCP-682 is to be tracked and re-captured by all available Mobile Task Forces, and no teams with fewer than seven (7) members are cleared to engage it. To date (██-██-████), attempted breaches have numbered at seventeen (17), while successful breaches have numbered at six (6). Item #: SCP-076 Object Class: Keter Special Containment Procedures: Containment Area 25b is to be located 200 m below sea level, tunneled out of solid bedrock in a seismologically stable area. Sole access to the containment facility is to be through a vertical elevator shaft separated every fifty (50) meters with a reinforced blast door, constructed of 20 cm thick material shielding. Elevator shaft shall be flooded with seawater when not in use. Containment Area 25b is to be constructed with the following components: An Outer Security Perimeter against outside threats, staffed by security personnel trained in close quarters battle and counter-intrusion tactics. An Administrative and Support Area (ASA) consisting of support facilities and living quarters for on-site personnel. A Primary Containment Zone (PCZ), consisting of a 7 m cube encased in 1.5 m of reinforced material. PCZ is to be designed to be flooded and drained as needed, and should remain filled with seawater unless access to contents is required. A 150 m "killing corridor" which is to be the sole access to the PCZ from the ASA (including water, power, drainage, and ventilation lines). The walls and floor of the corridor are to be reinforced in a similar manner to the PCZ, with the addition of an electric deterrence system capable of delivering a 20,000 volt shock. A security station located at the entrance to the killing corridor is to be staffed with no fewer than three (3) armed security personnel on watch at any one point in time. Armament is to include, but not be limited to, at least one (1) ███████ CIW system on a pintle mount with a clear line of sight down the corridor, with a plexiglass screen to protect the operator from thrown weapons. In the event of a full breach, all on-site staff are to proceed immediately to the closest security station for weapons and armor distribution. Staff will remain at Alert Condition One until SCP-076-2 is confirmed neutralized. Should 90 minutes pass after declaration of full breach without a Stand Down order being given by Level 4 or higher personnel, Final Contingency Measures will be activated, flooding the entire facility in seawater and sealing off the access shaft for a minimum of 24 hours before retrieval is attempted. This will, by necessity, result in the deaths of all on-site staff. Description: SCP-076 consists of two components: a stone cube (SCP-076-1) and a humanoid entity contained within (SCP-076-2). SCP-076-1 is a 3 m cube made of black speckled metamorphic stone. All surfaces outside and within SCP-076-1 are covered in deeply engraved patterns corresponding to no known civilizations. Radioisotope analysis indicates that the object is approximately ten thousand (10,000) years old. A door is located on one side, sealed with a lock 0.5 m in width, surrounded by twenty (20) smaller locks in a circular pattern. As of yet, none of the keys have been found, making the door impossible to lock once closed. Interior temperature is approximately 93 Kelvin, and cannot be altered by any means, internal or external. Directly in the center of the room is a 2.13 m tall stone coffin, held in place and sealed shut by several chains of unknown make and substance, which are attached to the inner corners of SCP-076-1. SCP-076-2 resembles a lean Semitic human male in his late twenties. Hair is black, and eyes are gray, skin tone olive. Subject is 1.96 m in height and 81.65 kg in weight. Numerous tattoos depicting arcane and occult iconography are present all over the body (mostly in the form of leering demonic faces) and ranges from subtle to openly ostentatious. Subject, when encased inside SCP-076-1, is technically dead. However, occasionally SCP-076-2 will awaken, effectively "reanimating", complete with all vital processes needed to sustain a living human being. Subject will then attempt to leave SCP-076-1. If successful, subject will enter a trance state and seek out the nearest human being, ignoring all other living things in the process. Upon coming into contact with living humans, SCP-076-2 will enter a rage state in which it attempts to engage and kill all human beings encountered. To date, only the subject's death has been shown to be effective in ending these rampages. Terminating SCP-076-2 is often problematic due to its significant physical abilities. Subject has superhuman strength and speed, and although not invulnerable, has shown a remarkable ability to ignore pain and shock, pressing on despite what would be debilitating wounds in normal humans. Prior encounters have shown that SCP-076-2 has the ability to (among other things): Rip through a reinforced steel security door over the course of four (4) minutes of sustained assault. Clear over 64 m of distance in under three (3) seconds. Take multiple .50 caliber BMG rounds to the head and survive for several minutes to continue killing, despite severe damage to the cerebellum. Swat handgun and assault-rifle caliber bullets out of the air with a length of steel rebar. Survive for over one (1) hour deprived of oxygen before finally asphyxiating. SCP-076-2's most unusual ability, however, is its ability to apparently materialize bladed weapons out of nowhere. Slow-motion video footage reveals that the blades in question are actually pulled from a miniature dimensional rift described as a "small hole in space." Where this portal leads is unknown, as is how SCP-076-2 is capable of generating said rifts. Footage of the blades in question shows them to be made out of a completely non-reflective black material appearing as a "black void in space." As the blades rapidly vanish after leaving the subject's possession, no structural analysis is possible at this time. SCP-076-2 has effectively been killed several times in various manners: Sustained fire from multiple heavy-caliber machine guns. Asphyxiation. Crushed beneath a 13.6 metric tonne piece of elevator equipment for use on SCP-076-1. Cremation through the use of a Thermate-TH3 grenade placed directly inside SCP-076-2's open chest cavity. During the worst breach to date, Containment Area-25 (which previously housed SCP-076) was forced to detonate its on site warhead as a last attempt to contain SCP-076-2 while it was attempting escape, resulting in total destruction of the site and all on-site personnel. SCP-076-1 survived. Upon death, SCP-076-2's remains will putrefy rapidly, until reduced to dust. SCP-076-1 and the coffin within will then slam shut with great force, and the lock will rotate, sealing it shut. SCP-076-2 will then reform within the coffin, a process taking anywhere from six (6) hours to twenty-five (25) years. What posthumous analysis of SCP-076-2 exists shows that it has a internal system highly different from our own, documented in [DATA EXPUNGED]. Additional: SCP-076 was found in ████████████, Mongolia, in 18██, by archaeologists from England. All members of the expedition were subsequently killed on the return voyage home. SCP-076 was recovered from the ship █████ ███████ by the ███████ Society (one of the organizations that later merged into the modern Global Occult Coalition) and placed on display in their Inner Sanctum. SCP-076 remained in storage for ███████ (██) years, until SCP-076-2 became active and escaped on ██-██-████. The reason for SCP-076's activation is currently unknown, but it was at this point that the keys to the outer shell were lost. A massive manhunt, lasting over three (3) years and ████ ███████, took place until SCP-076-2 was incapacitated by ██████████ ███████, killing it and causing it to reform inside SCP-076-1, by then retrieved and secured by agents of the SCP Foundation. Subject was in custody for three (3) more years, under constant supervision, and was terminated whenever it became active, although it occasionally was able to escape for short periods of time, often due to security breaches caused by attacks from other organizations. The Foundation's death toll due to this was [DATA EXPUNGED] Item #: SCP-173 Object Class: Euclid Special Containment Procedures: Item SCP-173 is to be kept in a locked container at all times. When personnel must enter SCP-173's container, no fewer than 3 may enter at any time and the door is to be relocked behind them. At all times, two persons must maintain direct eye contact with SCP-173 until all personnel have vacated and relocked the container. Description: Moved to Site-19 1993. Origin is as of yet unknown. It is constructed from concrete and rebar with traces of Krylon brand spray paint. SCP-173 is animate and extremely hostile. The object cannot move while within a direct line of sight. Line of sight must not be broken at any time with SCP-173. Personnel assigned to enter container are instructed to alert one another before blinking. Object is reported to attack by snapping the neck at the base of the skull, or by strangulation. In the event of an attack, personnel are to observe Class 4 hazardous object containment procedures. Personnel report sounds of scraping stone originating from within the container when no one is present inside. This is considered normal, and any change in this behaviour should be reported to the acting HMCL supervisor on duty. The reddish brown substance on the floor is a combination of feces and blood. Origin of these materials is unknown. The enclosure must be cleaned on a bi-weekly basis.