SCP-3013
rating: +49+x
milkmaid

SCP-3013, prior to Experiment 3013-8.

Item #: SCP-3013

Object Class: Euclid Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Following the events of Experiment 3013-8, SCP-3013 is currently located in what was Secure Holding Facility B of Site-██. This room has been surrounded by a hermetically sealed container. On no account are any structural changes to be made to this holding facility or container, unless to reinforce the former Secure Holding Facility B. Surveillance cameras and guards are posted at intervals around this chamber. One entrance leads directly to SCP-3013’s holding chamber; this is not to be used unless some way is found to penetrate the SCP-3013-1 instance currently permeating the holding chamber.

Description: SCP-3013 is a wooden picture frame, which will alter its size, shape and style to accommodate any painted canvas or paper inserted into it. Once a painting is inserted into it, SCP-3013-1 instances will begin to manifest in the surrounding area. SCP-3013-1 instances are usually objects, people or alterations to the landscape which resemble features of the painting inserted into SCP-3013.

The nature of these SCP-3013-1 instances changes depending on the painting in question. In a portrait-painting, or a picture dominated by human or animal figures, SCP-3013-1 instance will usually resemble the human or animal figures present in the painting. Such SCP-3013-1 instances will ordinarily be sapient, and will possess personality traits related to the subjects of the painting or the nature of their composition. If a painting with a lesser focus on human or animal figures is placed in SCP-3013, such as a landscape painting or an abstract piece, then SCP-3013-1 instances will often instead be an alteration of the physical environment around SCP-3013. Further details can be found in the experiment log below.

Should SCP-3013 not have a painting within it, then an SCP-3013-2 event will occur. This consists of gradual damage affecting the landscape surrounding SCP-3013, usually via noticeable subsidence in the surrounding area, in addition to cracks and fault lines appearing over the course of several hours in the landscape and any structures close to SCP-3013. Although SCP-3013 is not indestructible, attempts to harm it simply result in extremely fast-acting and intense SCP-3013-2 events.

SCP-3013 was first discovered by the Foundation in 20██, in the ruins of ██████████ Hall, a country manor in Norfolk, England. It is believed that a recent burglary had seen the painting currently in SCP-3013 removed, prompting the activation of an SCP-3013-2 event, resulting in the destruction of ██████████ Hall and several earthquakes registering above 8 on the Richter Scale. ██████████ Hall had been abandoned since 197█, when its previous occupant, Annabel Stone, had died. Mrs. Stone had been a prominent local artist, but had reportedly become a social recluse several months after her husband’s death in 193█, and had rarely ventured out of her home thereafter. The house was considered to be haunted by the local inhabitants after her death, with attempts to enter the property ordinarily resulting in considerable emotional distress to the intruders.

Due to the events of Experiment 3013-8, SCP-3013 is currently unreachable, due to an SCP-3013-1 instance permeating its current containment chamber. It is currently believed that should the current containment procedures limiting the present SCP-3013-1 instance to its current parameters be destroyed, an XK-class end-of-the-world scenario could be possible. As the present SCP-3013-1 instance appears to be limited by the boundaries of the room it was contained in, despite a lack of clear physical impediments. It is thus believed that SCP-3013’s effects are currently tied to the conceptual space of the room rather than any physical barriers.

Addendum SCP-3013-1: On 27/12/20██, a stolen painting and a letter were discovered by the Dutch police during a raid on an illegal art auction in Amsterdam. Foundation agents embedded within the Dutch police recognised its relevance to SCP-3013 and transferred both to Foundation control, issuing amnestics to all known to be involved. The painting is an oil-on-canvas work of considerable skill, dated to the mid-1930s and depicting a middle-aged man believed to be Elijah Stone, the husband of Annabel Stone. The letter was also dated to the mid-1930s. It is believed to have been intended for a friend of Ms. Stone’s, Maud Lancaster, but was unfinished and apparently never sent. The letter reads as follows:

My Dearest Maud,

It was delightful to see you last week! The children are growing up so fast now; I could hardly recognise them. I must thank you for your recipe for those jam tartlets- I might cook them for the church fundraiser next month. Your new house is so lovely- that little London flat of Jack’s always seemed to be far too dark and squalid for you.

I do appreciate your attempts to lift my spirits after Elijah’s passing, but there really is no need. It has been almost a year now, and I am doing quite fine on my own. My paintings are selling well recently, and a fellow from London recently bought that picture of my niece Harry for a tidy little sum. I do miss him dreadfully, but I’m beginning to piece things back together again. Reverend Jacobs has been most helpful, and always provides a kind shoulder to lean on. I think he might be a little sweet on me- he is an awfully handsome fellow, and it doesn’t do for someone in his line of work to be unmarried at his age.

By the way, I know that you’re interested in spiritualists and mediums, so I thought this little story might amuse you. There’s a medium in the village, who I think I’ve mentioned before- “Madam Quentin”, she calls herself. I think it’s all frightful nonsense, personally, but it does provide me with some amusement in the evenings- watching all the locals get in a tizzy over some great-aunt they never cared about any way is rather fun.

Anyway, there was a chap from America there, a doctor of some kind, who knew Elijah! Said that he knew him from his work in London- they’d often met up at the Belgrade, apparently. He gave me the most marvellous wooden frame- it's in a delightful shade, and with a lovely pattern carved into it. And I must tell you, Maud- he seemed at first like a perfectly charming and amiable young gentleman, but once he had given me the frame, he leaned in and said the strangest things.

His voice was so cold and chilling that I’ve remembered every word: “This object is an expression of mourning, for your husband and my old friend. I shall tell you now that it must only be used for that. If it is not, then all the feeling, all the genius and all the grief poured into its construction will be misused. It’ll start directing the energies of other ideas, thoughts that it was not supposed to touch. So only use it for a painting of beloved Elijah, my dear. If you don’t, then the madness and darkness of a passion frustrated will run vengeful and free, until that feeling is all that's left.”

And then, he quite abruptly left, before I was able to ask him what on earth he meant! It was all very mysterious, and the whole thing left me feeling a little shaken. I’m not sure that he was quite right in the head. But the frame is such a lovely piece of craftsmanship, all the same. I think it’s the perfect fit for that picture I painted of him a month before his passing.

At this point, there is a break of several lines, before the text resumes. The hand appears to be the same, but with a far shakier grasp on the pen, believed to be due to advanced age. It is believed that this portion of the letter was written several decades after the first.

I don’t remember this letter. I must have just forgotten about it, what with all the excitement of the day. I should have finished it, I suppose. I was rude not to. But I can’t pretend I really care.

You’re long dead now, Maud. I don’t think I ever saw you again after this. I couldn’t see the point. I didn’t have to try any more. I didn’t have to be brave, I didn’t have to pretend to be happy, I didn’t have to be lonely in a crowd any more. I didn’t have to try. It’s just me, and him, and he never grew old and he always loves me.

With love,

Annie.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License