SCP-116
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Item #: SCP-116

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-116 is to be kept within an available space, furnished or non-furnished, preferably with a lockable door. SCP-116 is currently kept within Storage Closet 3C.

Cameras (1-2) are to be positioned at the entrance to SCP-116's containment, with feeds accessible from the security office. Ideally, at least one of the cameras should be working at all times.

In the event that SCP-116 attempts to leave the closet, an available specialist is to be sent to reestablish containment at the earliest convenience. If the task is not completed before the next working shift, the on-site supervisor should leave a memo notifying the next shift's supervisor. The specialist must be comfortable lifting 20 kg (about 45 lbs) without assistance.

In the event of major systems or containment failure, personnel are permitted to discontinue SCP-116's containment in favor of more urgent tasks.

Description: Male humanoid, nine years of age. Subject has shown no signs of aging since acquisition. Outwardly, it resembles a non-anomalous humanoid with a severe musculature deficiency. Inwardly, in place of a normal bone structure, it possesses a single large bone in the shape of a human skeleton.

The bone within SCP-116 has no natural joints or hinges, but superficial growths in the shapes of joints at their appropriate position. Even a cursory inspection of SCP-116 reveals that these "joints" are non-functional.

SCP-116 would be completely immobile, if not for a secondary anomalous factor which triggers whenever the subject attempts to move. Upon flexing any muscle, the bone will break at the point of friction, granting limited movement. Within 10 to 60 seconds, the bone will rapidly heal, repairing any fractures or breaks in their current position. Interestingly, this effect only triggers when initiated by SCP-116. If another individual attempts to manually bend SCP-116's limbs, the bone remains rigid, and will only break if forced.

SCP-116 generally remains immobile, non-responsive, and compliant. It does not eat, drink, or produce waste. It can be left in the same location and position for multiple weeks without any sign of activity or response. However, with no discernible pattern of frequency, SCP-116 will enter an active state in which it attempts to drag its body out of its containment area.

The subject reacts appropriately to its injuries while in this state, but will continue attempting movement regardless of any perceived harm. It is unknown how long an active state will last without outside intervention.

Transcribed dialog produced by SCP-116 is completely nonsensical.

VIDEO LOG


DATE: 07/26/08


[BEGIN LOG]

00:00: Camera 1 observes West Wing Corridor 3C, which is devoid of personnel.

00:26: The door to Storage Closet 3C moves slightly as it is pulled inward. After several seconds, a trembling hand appears at ground level, gripping the doorframe.

01:41: SCP-116 spends over a minute struggling to pull its upper body through the doorframe. It is visibly distressed, and the feed picks up the sound of sobbing.

01:42 - 45:45: Approximately 40 minutes of locomotion removed for brevity. During this time, SCP-116 advances one meter (three feet) from the door.

45:46: SCP-116 appears to be struck by sudden fatigue and stops all movement for over five minutes.

51:04: SCP-116 jerkily resumes movement, propping itself up on its elbows. It screams as its back snaps, the crack loud enough to be picked up by the feed.

51:05: Junior Supervisor D. Pride is alerted to check the security feed by the sound of SCP-116's scream. Pride notifies containment staff through the appropriate channels.

56:02: Over the course of five minutes, SCP-116 switches to a new method of locomotion wherein it "inch-worms" along the ground, primarily using its shoulders, hips, and knees as points of contact. Its back is clearly broken, and its upper body flops precipitously forward each time it advances.

57:16: SCP-116's back heals while the subject is bent forward. It is stuck on its chest and knees, with its hips raised off the ground.

59:40: After several failed attempts, SCP-116 determines that it is unable to move forward without again breaking its back.

59:41 - 82:23: Approximately 23 minutes removed for brevity. During this time, SCP-116 searches for a way to break out of its current position. It eventually shuffles towards the two-stair step separating West Wing Corridor 3C from the main walkway, and deliberately falls over the stair steps, landing on its back and shattering it. It remains in place, sobbing uncontrollably, for over six minutes.

83:03: SCP-116 stays on its back, appearing to adopt another form of locomotion. It pushes itself forward primarily using its hips and legs, alternating which leg is being broken while it waits for the other to heal.

98:18: SCP-116 exits the view of Camera 1. It has traversed a distance of approximately 3 meters (10 feet).

98:19 - 109:36: No activity.

109:37: SCP-116 re-enters the view of Camera 1, carried by Containment Specialist S. Legend.1 SCP-116 is clearly unconscious, with its body maintaining an unnaturally rigid state in S. Legend's arms.

110:00: SCP-116 is returned to containment.


[END LOG]

Addendum 1: It has come to the attention of containment specialists that there is no working lock attached to the door to SCP-116's containment area. Further investigation has confirmed that the door knob was installed prior to the closet's conversion to containment, and has never possessed a lock. A request has been submitted for a new door knob to be installed.

Addendum 2: Following Addendum 1, a thorough audit of SCP-116's containment records was performed. The Ethics Committee has since mandated the following addendum.

SCP-116: HISTORIC OVERVIEW


SCP-116 was acquired by the Foundation in [DATA EXPUNGED]. Originally, SCP-116 was kept within a DARPA military compound (Redhawk Base XS-█████) as part of a study on anomalous forms of regeneration.

At Redhawk Base, scientists developed an erroneous belief that SCP-116 was affecting their minds via its nonsensical speech patterns. It is unclear exactly what caused this belief, although some records imply that the Base's contact with other anomalous objects led to a rumor that any form of improper English was "a clear sign" of the anomalous. No records of formal testing at Redhawk Base have been found.

Redhawk Base was one of several DARPA compounds dissolved into the Foundation after its initial founding. Initially, Redhawk records were incorporated into Foundation files, with cross-referencing performed after the fact. As a result, the first containment team in charge of SCP-116 inherited the belief that its speech was cognitohazardous.

When proper testing revealed that the subject poses no threat to others, and only threatens itself, the decision was made to significantly reduce the project's funding. At this time, SCP-116 was moved from a large, maximum security containment chamber to Storage Closet 3C. Records seem to indicate that this was intended as a temporary measure, but due to the low priority of the project, no further relocation was ever proposed or attempted.

The Ethics Committee feels that this historical context is potentially useful to future containment teams, and shall therefore be added to SCP-116's documentation in the form of an addendum. Additionally, the Committee recommends that SCP-116 be moved to a standard containment cell. However, the Committee acknowledges that this action may put strain on the Site's available resources, and therefore leaves the decision to the discretion of the present Containment Supervisor.


Addendum 3: In response to Ethics Committee memorandum, a formal inquiry was made to the present Containment Supervisor for SCP-116. At this point, it was discovered that there was no Containment Supervisor assigned to SCP-116.

According to interviewed personnel, a Containment Supervisor was deemed unnecessary, due to the extremely small workload associated with the anomaly. Site Security had been operating under the impression that SCP-116's containment was their jurisdiction, with assistance permitted from outside personnel.

Dr. Daniel Diver has now been assigned as the Containment Supervisor for SCP-116. Dr. Diver has not been assigned a research team, as this was, in fact, deemed unnecessary.

Addendum 4: Distance Test

EXPERIMENT LOG


DATE: 02/13/09

SUBJECT: SCP-116

RESEARCHER: Dr. D. Diver, Containment Supervisor for SCP-116

PROCEDURE: At the start of SCP-116's next active period, Dr. Diver is to be immediately notified. SCP-116 is not to be recontained or otherwise prevented from movement. Dr. Diver will observe the subject's activity for as long as possible, with the intention of determining its destination or objective.


[BEGIN LOG]

0 hours: SCP-116 becomes active and locomotes into the hallway, in a manner synonymous with previous incidents. Dr. Diver is notified and begins his observation from within the Site security tower.

3 hours: SCP-116 successfully makes it to the third floor elevator, a distance of approximately 6 meters (20 feet) from its containment area. It operates the elevator and arrives at the first floor.

4 hours: SCP-116 spends an additional hour getting out of the elevator, as the doors continually close, often on SCP-116's torso, before it can fully exit the carriage.

12 hours: Over the course of the next eight hours, SCP-116 drags itself from first floor West Wing to the main concourse. It does not appear to know its destination, as it is observed hesitating at junctions and occasionally recrossing its path. Additionally, SCP-116 is noted collapsing from exhaustion on four occasions.

16 hours: As SCP-116 enters the main concourse, Dr. Diver makes an announcement over the site intercom, requesting all personnel to vacate the area, if possible. Foot traffic is subsequently reduced, but not eliminated.

17 hours: Encountering a member of janitorial staff (M. Baker), SCP-116 unexpectedly stops moving and attempts to communicate with the janitor. The full exchange is included below.

SCP-116: Hey! It's my turn now. Borgy? Lights on? Do you know where it is?

M. Baker: Sorry? U-Um… Are you okay?

SCP-116: I need lights on! Tell me where. I want to drive the car, I want to drive the scooter. But I need lights on first. Okay?

M. Baker: I'm sorry, I, uh, don't know what you're saying—

Dr. Diver: (over intercom) It's okay, Murray, just leave him. He's, uh… faking it.

M. Baker: He— He's covered in blood—

Dr. Diver: Walk away, Murray. That's an order.

25 hours: At this point, it is late at night. SCP-116 has advanced to the front lobby, approximately 10 meters (32 feet) from the main entrance. As the subject drags itself within view of the doors, it becomes highly agitated, exclaiming, "The lights!"2

26 hours: Dr. Diver makes the decision to relocate to the lobby, to prevent the subject from fully exiting the building. When he arrives in the lobby, SCP-116 has again collapsed from exhaustion. It resumes movement immediately upon waking, and does not seem to notice Dr. Diver's presence behind it.

30 hours: SCP-116 spends the next four hours finishing the journey to the front doors. Although Dr. Diver anticipated the need for intervention, SCP-116 did not attempt to exit the building. After reaching up to touch the glass surface of the door, it was observed to simply stop; according to Dr. Diver, "as if something had just occurred to [it]." The subject then slumped its shoulders and began crying uncontrollably.

31 hours: After approximately 20 minutes of sustained crying, SCP-116 once more collapsed from exhaustion. When an additional hour had passed with no activity from the subject, Dr. Diver concluded the experiment and returned it to containment.

[END LOG]


Comments: I just don't get it. It's obvious that he wanted to escape, but he didn't do it. I could see his face in the glass, before he started crying. After all that time dragging himself, he was practically unrecognizable. But somehow, the look on his face was worse than all of that.

More importantly, I did not expect him to try talking to anybody. All those military records, and nobody ever wrote down a thing he said. They must have really believed that listening to him would make them go crazy. Well, not me. I'm going to interview him. — Dr. Diver

Addendum 5: Interview

INTERVIEW LOG


Foreword: The purpose of this interview is to assess SCP-116's speech patterns, and determine if any meaning can be derived.

The subject was initially non-responsive, so it was restrained in anticipation of its next active period. It eventually became vocal and started responding to questions.

<Begin Log>

Dr. Diver: What are your earliest memories?

SCP-116: Can I drive the car? Can I drive the scooter? I want to do it! No one ever lets me do it. But it was a pretty day.

Dr. Diver: Do you remember the first time you got hurt?

SCP-116: Oh. Hurting? Super-cut.

Dr. Diver: Take your time. Just do your best to tell me about it.

SCP-116: Um, there's the borgy borgy borgy, and then hammers all over me. It's not really hammers though. Down the stairs, everything breaks, get up, press home, walk. Over and over again.

Dr. Diver: Press home?

SCP-116: De-press?

Dr. Diver: I don't understand.

SCP-116: Pressed and de-pressed. And depressed and depressed and depressed.

Dr. Diver: Okay, maybe we'll come back to that. I want to ask you about what happened the last time you… pressed home. Do you remember that? Going to the front doors?

[Several seconds of silence.]

SCP-116: Yeah. Okay.

Dr. Diver: You told the janitor you were looking for "lights on." Did you mean sunlight?

SCP-116: Um, yeah? Up and just squares.

Dr. Diver: Okay. "Lights on" means sunlight. Good.

SCP-116: (confused) That's what I borgy.

Dr. Diver: Still not sure what borgy is supposed to be. SCP-116, have you heard of something called Wernicke's Aphasia?

[SCP-116 is silent.]

Dr. Diver: It's a condition that causes a person to speak fluently, but nonsensically. (pause) I imagine what you're saying might make perfect sense to you, but it doesn't to me. Conversely, the things that I'm saying might sound wrong to you. It seems like you understand me, for the most part. Do you understand what I'm saying right now?

SCP-116: Borgy… always hurts. And confusing. No tea for me, thanks.

Dr. Diver: Borgy… is that your word for talking?

SCP-116: Borgy is borgy, yeah.

Dr. Diver: Good! This is progress.

[Dr. Diver pauses to record notes.]

Dr. Diver: SCP-116, I'd like to ask you about when you got to the front doors. It looked like you wanted to go outside, but you didn't. Why is that?

SCP-116: Well… lights weren't on.

Dr. Diver: The sun wasn't out, you're saying. You… do understand that it was nighttime, right?

SCP-116: It's always dark.

Dr. Diver: …You're telling me that's the only reason? If it had been daytime, you would have gone outside?

[SCP-116 is silent for several seconds.]

SCP-116: Sometimes I think about… stars… but also how dark the dark is. And then there are distances. So maybe… the star is not really in the room? Maybe it's just the dark. And then… it gets sad, and bigger, and more, and hurting. (pause) I wish it was a choice. Stars, or dark. But no. And when I got there and the lights weren't on, I realized… it's never going to be a choice. Whether it's here, the floor, press home, whatever. It doesn't matter. It won't change.

Dr. Diver: I'm… sorry, SCP-116, I'm not sure I understand.

SCP-116: It just gets bigger, and more… and hurting. So I'm not going to try anymore.

Dr. Diver: You're not going to try to leave anymore?

SCP-116: Mondo. Don't care.

[SCP-116 abruptly begins crying.]

Dr. Diver: …Alright, that's enough for now. We'll end the interview here.

<End Log>

Addendum 6: Since its interview with Dr. Diver, SCP-116 has not entered an active state or attempted to leave Storage Closet 3C. No other changes to behavior have been noted. The subject remains non-responsive and compliant, and has not engaged in further conversation with Dr. Diver or other staff members. As the subject appears comfortable, the decision has been made to keep Storage Closet 3C as its containment area.

Dr. Diver has been commended for his efficient work in assessing and updating SCP-116's containment. Assuming no further incidents are recorded, Dr. Diver will be reassigned in 90 days, and the position of Containment Specialist for SCP-116 will no longer be considered necessary.

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