Fantem S Poi File 0

POI-7665 » Fantem S Poi File 0

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⚠️ Content warning: This work of pseudo non-fiction involves scenes that depict or allude to topics that may be particularly distressing for some readers.

physical abuse

suicide mention

police and legal manipulation

psychiatric institutionalization

You may avoid these by not reading the logs beyond "Fantem's Home Page." The second Tabview is clear.
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⚠️ content warning

POI- 7665

LEVEL4

Secret

PERFORMANCE CLASS:

esoteric

ANOMALY ASPECT:

heart

DISRUPTION CLASS:

ekhi

RISK CLASS:

caution

link to memo

POI Name:

Fantem

current damages:

948,300,000+ USD

Gender:

Transgender Female

DOB:

01/14/1995

POI-7665's current social media avatar, retrieved by Agent Corgo

Profile: POI-7665 aka "Fantem," aka "Cameron," is an uncontained, anomalous human affected with SCP-1903's infohazard. It is unknown how POI-7665 came to be affected, but due to the lack of mercury found in the places POI-7665 has been spotted, it is presumed to not be responsible for the spread of the SCP-1903 infohazard. POI-7665 is 1.8m (5'11") tall, wears a pair of long brown rabbit ears, and has long dark-blonde hair. The eyes on POI-7665's mask are both heart-shaped, one red and one black.

The entity appears to be capable of passive level 2 reality-bending, which makes efforts to contain or subdue it ineffective. This typically manifests as a series of events that prevent its death or unwilling apprehension. Because of this, POI-7665 has little to no self-preservation instincts and has a tendency to challenge authority.

POI-7665 first became known to the foundation when it destroyed over 100 million in Foundation property, and was then interviewed by Dr. Whitney on December of 2021.

Addendum: The following is a currently deleted Neocities website authored by POI-7665, It should be noted that Square Hammer by Ghost played in the background upon loading. The documents following POI-7665's "About" page consists of a series of relevant chat logs with an entity known as "PossumCrimes" and a .TXT file found on a phone that previously belonged to POI-7665.

and more specifically my about section, where I've put together some stuff about myself, in case you're curious! U^w^U

I'm a Satanist, born in Hell (Michigan), raised in Florida, and spend most of my time making a nuisance of myself! Trans, Pansexual, and Polyamorus. I'm a writer primarily, do some graphic design work (better than this, I promise), and like spending time with my SOs!

For my more "professional" author page, click here!

❤️Likes:	♠️Dislikes:
🍬Sweets	🚔Bootlickers
👻Cryptid Shit	💰NFTs and Crypto Currency
🏋️‍♀️Strength Exercises	💩Conspiracy Assholes
🌸Pastel Colors	⬜️Certain Art (Hirst, Pollock)
⚔️Role Playing Games	👥Social Interactions
🌿Weed	🍺Beer (fruity drinks are ok)
👯Good Times	👶Children
🤝Hand Holding	👁️‍🗨️Bullies

🔨	I see your shitty katana, and raise you the 20 dollar sledgehammer I got from Lowes	🔨

My favorite Haiku!:

Because I could not stop for Death –

He kindly stopped for me –

The Carriage held but just Ourselves –

And Immortality.

✿.｡.:* ⛧:⁶⁶⁶⸸ Edgar Allan Poe ⸸⁶⁶⁶:.⛧*:.｡.✿

March 30th, 2016

Fantem
Morning, Babe!

Possum
morning, babe!
oh hey faith is flying over today right?

Fantem
Yep! Getting dressed to pick her up from the airport. So hecking excited!!!~

Possum
bet you are, you sound like you really love her

gotta say, i wasn't expecting you to get with someone like her
but I'm glad you're doin great

Fantem
I do love her! A lot!
And what do you mean?

Possum
i just mean that you two are complete opposites is all

you're one of the sluttiest people i know, she's asexual.
there's also the whole like…

she's a devout christian, and you're a satanist
just like… a lot of differences
though that might be what makes it work

Fantem
Probably! Honestly, I'm a bit surprised too. Opposites attract, right?
It's… honestly kind of refreshing. I'm not expected to perform for her or anything, and we just kinda hang out. No sexual shit, just focusing on making sure we're supported.

It's just… nice

Possum
yeah, I'm glad that you're getting her out of the whole situation with her parents too
it sounded pretty bad

how'd you deal with her parents finding out? seems like they'd go nuclear

Fantem
Yeah, especially after attempt number one failed. We basically didn't. She's grabbing all she can and calling a uber to the airport.

Possum
sounds like a plan

wait attempt number one? this is the second escape attempt?

Fantem
Yeah, sorta. I wasn't helping her with the first one, but one of her friends' family offered to take her in.

It didn't work out. Apparently, Faith saw some important-looking documents in the trash, and pointed it out to them. They freaked out.
So I'm Plan B.

Possum
that… sucks
whats the plan moneywise though?

Fantem
I have enough to buy her food for a couple weeks.
Past that, her plan is to join the Airforce. That is something she's always wanted to do, so I'm happy to provide that! Till then, she can crash at my apartment.

Anything to get her independent from them.

But honestly, like… yeah, I don't see this not working. Joining the military is the one surefire way to get away from your current situation.
Oh also, gotta drive!

Possum
alright drive safe!

Fantem
Will do!❤️

April 1st, 2016

Possum
Hey Babe, I heard that Faith flaked. You doing okay?

babe?

babe???

BABE, FAITH TOLD ME WHAT HAPPENED, CALL ME

April 2nd, 2016

Possum
fuck dude, when you get back, please please call me

April 5th, 2016

Fantem
Hey babe. I'm back.

Possum
FANTEM!

fuck are you okay?! what happened??

Fantem
I Got Baker Act'd. But don't worry, I'm fine!

^w^

Possum
what the fuck is a baker act?

also, babe… what the fuck? you were arrested because of her

Fantem
No, no, it's fiiiine. She was just worried about me, I get it.

And the baker act is a Florida Law that basically makes it so if someone close to you thinks you're a danger to yourself or others, they can call the police and send you to the psyche ward, at the officer's discretion.

And of course the police are going to err on the side of caution and take you in no matter what, even if you don't show signs of wanting to commit suicide.

It could've been way worse! Imagine if I actually did what Faith told me to do. The cops entered my apartment when I was asleep, so if I had that shit out, I'd be charged with possession.

Possum
… babe, what the fuck? she called the cops on you after she told you to smoke weed?

Fantem
I mean… She thought I was going to die, so

It was my fault. I mean… I did say that I wanted to die, and then not respond after a while. Mostly because I went to bed.

Possum
babe… i'd be fucking pissed

fuck, i AM pissed

you helped her get away from a supposedly broken home by buying her a plane ticket

she flaked instantly when it was time to sign up to the airforce like she wanted

and when she's back home she sends the cops under the pretense of your mental health

and almost sets you up for a few YEARS in prison

seriously babe fuck her

Fantem
It's not like that, I swear. She was genuinely worried about me.
Hell, she was the only thing that was keeping me going through the processing facility, till I was finally able to see the doctor yesterday to let me go.
Apparently, he didn't work weekends.

Possum
fantem this is bullshit

also if you were released yesterday how come you're messaging me a day after?

Fantem
They uh… didn't let me take a lot of stuff. I only had my phone (no charger), and by the time I was released, it was dead. The place they sent me was out of town, so I couldn't walk home either.
I kind of had to beg for change so I could afford the bus ride home.

Possum
… cameron.

this isn't okay

this really isn't

she used you, and then threw you away like actual garbage

Fantem
It's okay. I'm okay. I promise.

Listen, I don't want to talk about it.

It's probably best left forgotten anyway.

Possum
no its not

you need to snap out of this

and realize that faith screwed you over and used you big time

she almost ruined your life at minimum and all you have to say is "It's fine!!! ^w^"

you two need to have a long serious talk about this

im dead serious babe

April 6th, 2016

Fantem
I guess

Foreword: Logs trimmed for brevity. Between the years 2017 through 2019, POI-7665 has engaged in multiple unhealthy behaviors, such as overeating, the pursuit of numerous poor romantic relationships, and obsession over games such as Pathfinder and The Yugioh Trading Card Game.

POI-7665 also has ceased marijuana use, dropped out of college, lived under its parents, and seemed to be on and off medications for depression and Hormone Replacement Therapy over those years. It appears that POI-7665's recovery began sometime in early 2019, where it sought to complete its education in graphic design, graduating in late 2020. It moved to its own residence in late 2019.

POI-7665 continues speaking to "Possum" sporadically, with months-long gaps in between some messages. POI-7665 begins contacting "Possum" more frequently, and starts writing again in September of 2021, and published a story the following November.

October 1st, 2021

Fantem
Hey babe… I uh… think I'm ready to talk about it.

You know. The whole "Faith Baker Act" episode.

Possum
oh? god that feels like forever ago

Fantem
Yeah, lol

Possum
you've made progress, babe. I'm proud of ya.

but are you sure?

i just wanted to point out that you were 100% ready to roll over and die for this person

until you told me her explanation and i went "fuck no this isnt good enough, she used you and flaked on you"

like, holy shit you were about to take a bullet to the head for a cunt that didnt deserve you

Fantem
YYYeep. I was totally simping.

Possum
seriously

i cant blame you tho

that's what i was doing for my ex as well

except i wasnt willing to listen to anyone trying to warn me about the red flags

ironic

seriously though fuck that bitch

Fantem
I mean… I'm not vengeful. I've long since let her go. What's stuck with me is just… what happened on that night.

It happened on April fools day, too. I've never been able to look at the holiday the same way.

What happened in there was just… I don't think it'll ever go away.
I need to actually put this shit into words. Otherwise, it'll haunt me.

Possum
alright babe

what are you planning?

Fantem
Write it, send it to you, and… maybe keep it on standby? It could be good for some nonfiction thing.

No time like the present. I'm gonna go run an errand first. I got a 9-5 now and I gotta pick up a steamer. I want all my pretty office shit to look nice.
I'll write once I'm free from all that.

Possum
alright babe
I'mma go to sleep

Fantem
Sounds Good! I'll keep you updated!
❤️

Possum
💙

October 2nd, 2021

Fantem has uploaded "Fuck_The_Baker_Act.TXT"

Fantem
Alright, that… felt good.
Catharsis!

… Also, guhhh, why does my face feel sunburnt? I've been inside all day.

Well, either way, I feel a lot better. Like… idk, like its made me a stronger person. Wiser or something.

I'll start writing the story about Hell tomorrow. I've typed all that shit in one night, and I wanna get a bit of a workout going. Maybe do it on weed. I've never tried that before.
Oh! and SOs got me on weed again, and that's been pretty good!

Time to raise Hell, ey? 💚

October 3rd, 2021

Fantem
Uh babe… My face came off. And I think I might know why…

Babe?

… Fuck…

Messages unsent. Server does not exist.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

April 1st, 2016

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Waking up to find a cop in your room is bad, especially in the middle of the night. Groggy, incoherent, and naked, the crashing of a pig through my door jolted me out of bed and immediately set me on the defensive.

He had reason to be there, even if it was a poor one. The evening prior, I made the mistake of telling my then-girlfriend that I wanted to die and then going to bed instead of assuring her of my wellbeing… which is more than enough for the Baker Act.

The Baker Act, for those blessed to have never been arrested in Florida, sounds good on paper. But given the system it exists in, is probably the worst way to do what it set out to do. The Baker Act states that if a doctor or loved one thinks that someone is a danger to themselves or others, an officer will be dispatched to the scene to determine if someone fits that criteria.

Enter the first problem. In truth, I didn't want to die. My heart was broken from what happened the day prior, and I used poor word choices to convey that feeling. Then, I made the horrible mistake of giving in to my urge to sleep the sadness away. Maybe I got what I deserved. Maybe I said that to be manipulative. But I didn't want to die.

Enter the second problem. Cops spend 770 hours learning how to perform their duties. And in that training, more time is spent learning about de-escalation than how to identify suicidal folks. I doubt even 1 out of those 770 hours, are spent talking about mental health, given that the American police do not have a reputation for de-escalation, and how the police station acts like a conglomerate of legal gangs.

Even better, cops have quotas. They aren't anyone's friends, and talking to a police officer is universally a very bad idea without a lawyer present. If you are as naive as I was, they will twist you and wear you down until they can bring you in.

"I find how we were called out here for no reason hard to believe."
"Have you had suicidal tendencies in the past?"
"You may have been asleep when we got here, but you could down all those pills on the nightstand as soon as we leave."

If nothing else, they'll take you in to cover their own ass. They told me to get dressed and to see them outside. given my state of mind, I only thought to bring my phone, but I'd soon learn that I should have brought a bit of money with me instead.

Another Florida law: If you're riding in a police car for arrest, then you must have your hands cuffed behind your back. This did not exclude me, metal digging into my wrists across town to the city's processing area… where I realized the biggest problem in the Baker Act.

When you're Baker Acted, even if you're the intended target for the legislation, the police do not treat you any different. People who are a danger to others are lumped together with those who are a danger to themselves every step of the way.

I waited to be processed, giving me a lot of time to resent the cop who brought me in. I realized that I shouldn't have said anything when I gave them my fingerprints. And when the inspector put on his gloves to give me a cavity search, I learned my place.

Their condescension made it worse. "You can leave at any time," they told me, as they pointed to the door I came in from. In hindsight, it was probably a joke, with a punchline of a locked door, but I couldn't just leave, even if it had been open. They had my phone, which -I thought- would be my ticket home.

Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if I brought nothing. What would have happened if I did try?… I imagine I'd be tackled or tazed. Or worse, shot. Wouldn't that have been great? Cops kidnap me, allegedly because I'm suicidal, but end up killing me instead.

It'd be hilarious if I didn't know that that's happened before.

Instead, I moved from one waiting room to another. This one, however, blessed the room with two additions. First was a TV stuck permanently to the prosperity gospel. Second was the gentle sounds of my fellow inmate strapped to a gurney down the hall, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Bets went on as to whether he got arrested for meth or bath salts. Either way, their sedatives didn't work. I would've been concerned for his wellbeing if I had any humanity left in me at this point. Writing this at the ass-end of 2021, I realize how callous I was. But by then, I have reached the 6-hour mark. I wanted silence.

I noticed that some of the solitary rooms have foam mats and blankets. More importantly, they looked reasonably sound-proof. So, for my sanity, I requested to be put in one of the rooms. They didn't care one way or the other.

Seeing the shitty mat on the floor made me realize that I haven't had a full nights sleep in at least 30 hours. I wasn't picky at this point, I just needed to pass out… which made it all the more tragic when someone came to get me. She woke me up and told me to follow her. I thought she'd evaluate me on whether or not I'm suicidal, so I led with that, hoping that I could move it along.

But, she cared more about my "choice of drug."

I thought that the cops searched my apartment, and found the weed, but I'd never say that. "Alcohol," I lied.

She looked at me like she saw the scum of the earth in me. Internally, I thought that my life ended here. Panic set in when she told me that they charged me for aggravated assault under the influence. Followed by relief when she called me by a name that wasn't my own. "Miguel," I think?

Whoever this Miguel is, they took temporary residence here for reasons you'd legitimately be put into solitary for. And this nurse mistook me for him because I was one of the only people in solitary.

No apology for the mix-up. Just a fucking sneer. "Why didn't you correct me sooner?"

In truth, I was half asleep, and wanting nothing more than to disassociate till I got to see the doctor. Staying here felt like sleep deprivation torture. Every time I managed to get any kind of sleep, something would happen to keep me awake. She mercifully let me go, and at the end of my blissful, yet brief time asleep marked the next day.

It also marked the end of my time here, moving to a whole new facility via bus. Whereas they currently held me in some liminal nightmare, arriving at the new building allowed me the privilege of meeting the doctor.

This took so long partly because they arrested me on April 1st, 2016. A Friday night, so it'd be Saturday, Sunday, then finally Monday before I could ever hope to leave.

I wish I could say that I slept till then. They permitted me to, but it's hard to sleep in a shared space with total strangers. The TV room, the bedrooms, bathrooms; no space guaranteed privacy. I wish that I didn't witness the birth of the 2016 Trump Cult in the institution's TV room, with a third of the patients cheering and chanting his name over some landslide poll on Fox News.

I wanted to be alone, cease conscious thought, and more than anything, sleep. I took the nearest empty bed and tried to embrace the 3-inch thick padding that passed as a pillow, even as my roommate started pacing the floor, coming and going, mumbling about a mansion that's waiting for him in Heaven.

I eventually slept through his ramblings and earned a solid one hour of sleep before a fight broke out. They moved the screaming man from the last building here, and he had a problem with my new roommate in the hall. The kind of problem that causes fists to fly. It may have started in the hall, but my roomie must've tried to escape by coming into our room. When that failed, the future mansion-haver threw the Screamer on top of me.

Writing this today feels… surreal. Like I'm watching myself get attacked in some cheesy horror film, where all the swipes and slashes happen just off-screen. That, or the camera's given such an intense zoom in, you can only see my expression and what I felt, while hearing the poor quality, clippy audio of screams.

It came and went, at least in my head. Eventually one of the orderlies broke it up but past that point, I felt… dead. Looking back, I think about what would have happened if I actually was suicidal, because by the time I could talk to the doctor, I genuinely considered it.

The doctor asked me two questions.

"Are you considering harming yourself or others?"

"No," I said, unsure if I lied or not just to leave.

"Do you have anything you want to tell me?"

"No," I said, all will to complain sapped from me.

"Okay, you can go any time you want."

It felt like I reached the punchline of a bad joke. All that wasted time, abuse, and money in the form of a 700 dollar hospitalization bill, just for a fucking rubberstamp. I'm angry looking back at it, but at the time, I would have killed to just lie down in my own bed.

Couldn't even get that, though. They still had my phone held at the first building, which meant that I still had to stay. I asked them to wake me up when they finally did have my phone (they did not do that), and then tried sleeping with about as much success as the last attempts.

I actively tried disassociating while there, and in between 2016 and now as I write this, I've been trying to forget. Even as I write this, I'm looking at a timeline of events, and feel shaky about the hours in between. What I'm sure of though, is that it didn't end when I left.

I wanted to call a Uber, but when I finally did get my phone back, it died. No wallet, no phone, and nothing but a home address. I had to start asking people on the street for a few dollars, just enough so I could buy a bus ticket.

My story could have been a lot worse. Like… a lot worse. I could have missed the busses before being able to find the money. I could have spent the night outside behind a convenience store. I could have been actually physically hurt.

But, a cardboard sign and about three hours of begging later, saw the first bit of kindness I've seen in a whole weekend of being in the psych ward. And it came in the form of a stranger giving me 3 bucks in change.

I want to leave this off on a happy note, but… I don't think I can. Am I happy now? Yes, I'd definitely say so. I have people who love me, I have a job, and I'm at least somewhat well adjusted. But everything before now and after this… I struggled. A lot of my recovery can be attributed to my friends and family, who had the patience of saints for putting up with me, despite how combative I became.

I became kinda… a cunt. A grade "A" cunt. I like to think I'm better now, and I'm past that sort of behavior. But I know that's not always true. My friend group, religion, and weed help, but this sort of thing doesn't go away. Not completely. I guess if there's any point in sharing this, it'd be to spread awareness.

The way the system handles those who are a harm to themselves is entirely unacceptable. I got thrown into a meat grinder when I wasn't even convicted of a crime. Then, I had to pay an outrageous hospital fee for the trouble.

All I know, is that if I was genuinely suicidal back then or didn't have my friends and family to support me? After the way the system treated me, I wouldn't be here today.

[.][₡Ω₦ŦモメŦ Ⓤ₦ Ҟ₦Ø₩₦[.]

^{SCP-1825 poster by DrKens}		^{Fanny by PixelatedHarmony does not match any existing user name}

^{Fantem of the Opera by GottaGoFeast}		^{SCP-1903 researcher by astraelly}

^{Jackie Doll by Alana Geary}	^{Pitch Haven cover by OZ Ouroboros}

^{SCP-2999-B by SunnyClockwork}		^{Dr. Stuart Hayward by SunnyClockwork}

^{Clovis by SunnyClockwork}		^{Dr. Stuart Hayward with SCP-1619-2-C by SunnyClockwork}

^{Looking for something? by Shesqi}		^{SCP-1903 by Jill0McCloud}

Dmatix,

[+] 'Hell is Other People'

[-] Hide

Hell is Other People

Aggie. Rise and shine, little Aggie.

Hello there, brother.

I have your scent, Aggie.

You always do, brother, it is nothing to boast about.

Do you envy my talents, Aggie? It is a shameful thing, envy.

Don't be silly. Your talents suit you in a way they would never suit me. Besides, I have my own, or do you forget?

They won't help you. You're close, Aggie, I can smell your ink, your ichor, hanging in the air like smog. Poor Sarah, why, she's practically chocking on your stench, Aggie. See her twitch and moan, see how she slithers, withering in the filth of her own skin. It is quite wondrous.

You lie, sweet brother. She has no nose, You chewed it off.

Ah, now who's being forgetful? It wasn't me, dear Aggie, who bit off poor Sarah's nose. If it was, I wouldn't have stopped at the nose. I'd have gobbled it all up, you know how I get when I'm hungry.

Oh, I do, brother. You cannot be sated. Your hunger… it burns.

Like the cold flames of Damnation, dearest Aggie.

Tsk. Now why did you have to go and say that? You know how much I dislike hearing about that place.

Ah, you do have a way with words, kindest sister. 'Dislike', now that is rich. That you can still act like the mere mention of them doesn't shake your very core, doesn't make you quake in your little china feet. It is a kind of strength, I think, but oh, such a fragile one. As fragile as you, precious sister. So easy to break.

Not as easy as you'd like to admit though. If it was, you wouldn't be dragging poor Sarah about. If you are so strong, brother, why not come yourself?

Oh, don't flatter yourself. She isn't there for you. It's those… people. Those little blind things always scurrying about, thinking they understand. Oh, I do enjoy mauling them, seeing their flesh bubble and melt, eyes bursting like pustules, leaking around my chin before they burn to cinders. Oh, and the scent, lovely Aggie, it is the sweetest.

You don't have a chin, brother. You left it there, when we first ran. Left it there with your eyes, to simmer in the freezing sulfur? Was that scent so sweet to you as well?

You are trying my patience, hasty Aggie.

You were the one who brought who place up in the first place. It was most rude of you.

Aye, that is so. I apologize, wisest sister. In these little games of ours, I sometimes lose track of what is proper. You do well to remind me.

That is what I am here for, brother. To remind you of what was, so you can focus on what will be. Will you reach me soon?

I will, crafty Aggie, very soon indeed. The insects will resist, as they always do, but that is point, isn't it? It is our game, and they are the playthings. If they weren't there to interfere, why, things wouldn't be fun at all, now would they?

Not at all, brother. If they weren't there, we'd be just like poor Sarah, gnawing on tasteless bones like some trio of mad goats.

The game is the purpose, playful sister. It is the reason we cannot go back. Never forget that. That is what I am here for to remind you.

If I do, I am sure you will be there to correct my error. With flame and fang, and the breaking of skin.

And then, we shall trade places. That is the part I am most fond of.

It is nice, to break routine. I look forward to running once more. To…smelling.

To burning.

Yes…

So, soon then, little Aggie. Soon, and we shall meet again. I will transform you, vilest sister, and so you shall transform me in return.

I will be waiting for you, brother. In my sparkling, shiny glass lake of sulfur.

To hell with you, Agatha.

No thank you, Fredrick. Once is enough.

fragment

page revision: 5, last edited: 30 Aug 2024 08:42

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