SCP-3575

Item #: SCP-3575

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: The affected section of Quaw's Boulevard and Southview Avenue has been closed indefinitely. All lots in the area have been purchased by the Foundation and currently serve as Provisional Site-99.

SCP-3575's inhabitants are to be provided any requested supplies pending rescue efforts. As they are largely self-sufficient, only requested materials should be provided. Moral support may be given as well, although this is left to the discretion of supervising personnel.

Following the events of 07/01/19, no provisions are to be made available to the residents of SCP-3575 until further notice.

Description: SCP-3575 is a dimensional anomaly located in Belgrade, Montana.

SCP-3575 encompasses a 305 by 305 meter space centered on the intersection of Quaw's Boulevard and Southview Avenue; beyond this point, travel becomes difficult for unspecified reasons. It is believed that SCP-3575 resembles Belgrade as it was in 1999, with any constructions in the actual town beyond that point not being reflected in the space.

SCP-3575 is inhabited by fifteen individuals (designated SCP-3575-1 through -15) ranging from 14 to 23 years in age. All claim to have lived in Belgrade and passed into the location sometime in the last eighteen years. Persons living in SCP-3575 reside in the location's houses, and work together to grow food.

So far, no entrance to SCP-3575 has been found; any Belgrade-native individuals within the space appear to enter it rarely and at random. Once inside, it becomes impossible to get back to U-01¹, although it has been hypothesized that an exit lies beyond the bounds of the intersection proper. Non-human animals are the only entity known to be able to easily cross between SCP-3575 and U-01, and as such, may be exploited to facilitate communication between the Foundation and SCP-3575's residents (see interview log 3575-I4).

The majority of Foundation information about SCP-3575 comes from its contact in the location, SCP-3575-1. SCP-3575-1 (believed to be Nick Danguard of Belgrade) was first contacted by the Foundation in 2017. Since then, they have frequently requested supplies and entertainment for the other residents, and in exchange answer interview requests and provide biological samples of entities in the space.²

Addendum 14/01/19: On 07/01/19, SCP-3575-1 sent back a letter explaining the group's collective decision to leave their immediate area and go exploring, in case the exit to SCP-3575 lay somewhere beyond the intersection.

+ 3575-COR-I-284

thank you for your assistance these last couple of years. however, we wish to inform you that it will no longer be necessary, because we are leaving.

this may come as a shock to you, but i assure you need not worry. we have been discussing our situation and have come to the unanimous conclusion that there is nothing to be gained by staying.

this is not to say your supplies have not been appreciated; far from it. in fact, your supplies are what allowed us to organize this in the first place. but continuing to never accomplish anything, never making any real mark on the world - that's no way to live, isolated in a pocket dimension or not.

we've left instructions for how to contact you, in case some other poor sod stumbles into this place. please keep an eye out for if that does happen.

if we return sometime in the future, please disregard this message.

-nick

A message was sent back urging the group to reconsider, at least until their plans could be discussed with the Foundation. So far, no reply has yet been received.

Addendum 18/01/19: On 16/01/19, a backpack was found in a park in the nearby town of Bozeman containing a camera and a journal. The journal's stylistic conventions match SCP-3575-1's previous communications with Foundation personnel, and is assumed to have belonged to them at some point. The camera contained several photographs of the Quaw-Southview intersection, though each had been taken several months apart. Most photos correspond to dates in the journal.

+ 3575-DOC-06

---

13/08/15

can't leave. none of us can. but i have my camera. i'll take pictures every now and then. make sure i know it happened, that it's not just some terrible dream.

---

06/10/15

Tristan was telling me about a few years ago. he's been here since he was 11. at one point, he, Alexis, and Lee were the only ones here. he was telling me about how the three of them used to ride down the street in the old red wagon in Kate's yard. Lee cut himself on the rust one day, and that was when they knew it was time to stop, so they repurposed it into a flower bed. it's gone to seed now, but still pretty.

asked him why nobody ever crossed the border. he answered that he'd done that a couple times, but the air felt so different, so wrong, like he wasn't supposed to be there, that he crossed back almost immediately. he said that, a while back, there was a kid named Dylon who was pretty brave, so he crossed the border and nobody ever saw him again.

asked if there were anything keeping them from leaving besides fear. he said no, but even if there was nothing stopping us, we could only get so far before we run out of food.

stupid.

---

24/04/16

animals can pass through. was watching the robins the other day, noticed they disappeared once they crossed the border, but reappeared once they crossed back.

thought it was a pretty big development, and brought it to Tristan, but he said they already knew. said that's where we get our meat: wait on the roof with a rifle and some ammo, and just put one in. according to him, Lee's the best marksman.

asked him about contacting the outside world with it, he shot the idea down (heh). few years back, they sent out letters calling for help. didn't get a single response, so they gave up.

i'm gonna try and send some more things out. talked with Marshal about possibly catching one of the cats and tying a message to its neck. an sos. not sure what anyone on the other side would do, but it's better than not trying at all.

---

10/07/16

glad i was wearing the gray pants when i crossed over. thorns bounce off them like they're nothing. the green shirt's pretty nice, but it's gotten significantly dirtier since i got here. i don't wear it every day, yes, but it's still a nice reminder.

getting thinner, too. it was always on the agenda but farming for your food has a way of making you reconsider your eating-priorities. hair's short, which isn't flattering to my face, but who gives a shit. we all look pretty terrible. comradeship that way.

i keep thinking about death. it'd be so, so easy. we have a couple rifles and boxes of ammo in storage, because who the fuck in 'below grade' doesn't have them. feel like it'd be a public service, too; apparently, every couple of years, someone bites the big one of their own accord and we dine good on them for the next couple weeks, make jerky out of their flesh that'll last through winter.

i should feel nauseated by that, but i don't. i just feel hungry. i'd ask for forgiveness if i thought he was still looking out for me

---

21/04/17

we buried Molly today.

she was on John's roof, trying to patch a leak. fell and snapped her tibia in half like it was a twig, bone poking through skin and everything. Alexis said it would be pretty easy to heal, but she must've got some dirt in it or something, because about two nights later she woke everyone up with her screaming. definitely had a fever, and could hardly stand up. Alexis said the break had probably gotten infected. suspected septic shock. we don't have antibiotics.

called a meeting in the kitchen that night. Alexis didn't attend, was busy staying by Molly's side, but said that she wouldn't be surprised if the infection killed Molly's organs within a matter of days. had to decide whether to try and treat with what we had, or put her out of her misery.

majority ruled. Kate slugged me in the jaw. said a lot of other terrible things. i didn't stop her. Molly didn't stop us as we hauled her out to the yard.

found a piece of her skull in the grass after it was done. went to the water pump and cleaned it off. it's sitting on the nightstand right now.

she'll come with us if we ever decide to leave.

---

25/11/17

there's some old construction equipment near the school. Marshal and i set to work devising new rules for tic-tac-toe to make it more challenging, which was fun. it's getting harder to keep myself occupied. there are only so many interactions a group of fifteen people can have with each other. but while i'd rather be back in belgrade with my family, i'm grateful that the others are here.

isn't that weird? i've stopped feeling suicidal. dunno what changed. maybe i've just stopped seeing this as a thing that can ruin my life and see it as a thing that can ruin other lives. what use am i to the farm if i'm dead?

nothing to do except keep going.

---

12/07/18

got a reply back today, thank christ.

some dog trotted out into the street from the south. Emma broke down crying, mostly on account of it looking a lot like omnias, her old mastiff. thing had a vest on, black, military-issue, with pockets. went through them and found a message from someone who said he was with the u.s. government. wanted a response back if there was anyone here. wrote a letter explaining our situation and sent the dog back across the border.

word got around fast. it was kinda funny: all fifteen of us sitting on the street at the edge of the border awaiting something, anything. omnias ii returned about ten minutes later with some water, granola bars, and a letter saying that they could send supplies if any were necessary. we agreed on a list of things and sent it back, and waited. nobody moved from that spot, not for an hour, except for Lee, who went to go take something off the fire.

after a while, the dog came back, with everything we'd requested, plus two gallon baggies of homemade snickerdoodles. John was bawling his eyes out, which would have been pretty satisfying to see, except that i was too.

---

01/01/19

high spirits all around. literal spirits, too; we celebrated new years for the first time in god knows how long, and the folk on the other side were more than happy to provide us with enough booze to incapacitate a small militia.

never seen everybody in such a good mood, not since i first came to this place, and apparently before that too, if Tristan is to be believed. we're getting fresh food, newspapers, new clothes. hell, we've even got little portable heaters in all the houses. that's a luxury i never would have even dreamed of a year ago. there's even talk that maybe we'll find some way to escape, get back to the real world. trying not to get everyone too excited, but they're pretty high already.

---

06/01/19

starting to think maybe Alexis' plan isn't so crazy after all. sometimes it's all i can do not to hope.

Footnotes

1. Also known as baseline reality.

2. Selected correspondence from this period is included in this document; full records are available upon request from the archival department of Provisional Site-99.