SCP-4820 refuses any meals offered to it, but it has requested access to cooking implements, various spices, and a selection of sauces.

rating: +187+x
Item#: 4820
Containment Class:
Secondary Class:
Disruption Class:
Risk Class:

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-4820 is to be kept in a standard humanoid containment module at Site-17 Armed Bio-Containment Area-14.1 Up to 5 liters of blood may be withdrawn from SCP-4820 in any given 24-hour period. Withdrawal of larger amounts, or the harvesting of any of SCP-4820's organs, must be approved by at least one Level 4 Personnel.

SCP-4820 need not be supplied with food, and refuses any offered to it. SCP-4820 has requested access to cooking implements, various spices, and a selection of sauces. These requests have been granted on a probationary basis, and may be revoked as a disciplinary measure if the need arises. Consumption of food prepared by SCP-4820 is discouraged.

Description: SCP-4820 is an adult Filipino man, apparently 40-50 years of age. The object is able to rapidly regenerate damaged or destroyed tissue. These capabilities possess no known limit; SCP-4820 can even regrow appendages that have been completely severed2. Regeneration time increases with the severity of the injury in question and the extent of the damage; minor incisions heal almost instantaneously, but extracted internal organs take several hours to regenerate. SCP-4820 does not appear to feel pain, and often fails to notice when it is injured.

It is currently unknown how SCP-4820 fuels this rapid regeneration; it requires no more food or water than a standard human.

Addendum 4820-1: Testing log.

Addendum 4820-2: Transcript of an interview between Researcher Carlson and SCP-4820, shortly after its initial containment.

<begin log>

Researcher Carlson: Good afternoon, SCP-4820.

SCP-4820: Is that what you are going to call me now?

Researcher Carlson: Yes. It's just the protocol, nothing personal.

SCP-4820: Guess I'm not getting out of here any time soon, am I?

Researcher Carlson: I'm afraid not.

SCP-4820: Oh well. At least this place has people to talk to. Not like that blasted pebble of an island.

Researcher Carlson: It was certainly a hostile environment. But you still survived on it for almost twelve years. Care to explain how?

SCP-4820: Well, at first I prayed for escape, like any right-minded shipwreck survivor would. That was all I really wanted at first; I knew how to distill water, and there was a little cave where I could get out of the sun.

Researcher Carlson: What changed?

SCP-4820: I got hungry! [SCP-4820 laughs] Escape got a whole lot less important after that.

Researcher Carlson: So what did you do?

SCP-4820: I would have tried to catch some fish or something, but all I had to work with was a knife, some rocks, and one set of clothes. I thought about taking my chances in the water, but decided I'd still be better off starving in a cave than trying to swim all the way back home in open water. So I crawled down to the very back of that little cave, where it was nice and dark and cool, and prayed for something to eat.

Researcher Carlson: And that's when you developed your anomalous properties?

SCP-4820: Yes. I passed out back there - because I was exhausted - and then when I woke up I noticed all my cuts and bruises were gone. I got hurt pretty bad when the ship went down but now all that had healed. And it wasn't just those; all my scars were gone, too. Even my calluses had disappeared.

Researcher Carlson: What did you do when you realized this?

SCP-4820: I thought I was having a sunstroke. I would've cut myself to make sure if I'd had something sharp, but I'd dropped my knife somewhere, so I just picked a hand and bit down. Watched it heal right back up.

Researcher Carlson: Then what did you do?

[SCP-4820 smiles]

SCP-4820: What any sailor does when he's stranded on a barren island with only one food source.

<end log>

Addendum 4820-3: List of materials recovered from ████████ with SCP-4820.

  • 1 metal survival knife, rusted and dulled to the point of uselessness
  • 2 knives carved from a human tibia
  • 2 shirts and 2 pairs of pants, consisting of human skin sewn together with sinew and hair
  • 1 needle, carved from an unidentified human bone
  • 1 set of chess pieces; the "white" side is carved from various fingerbones, while the "black" side is carved from toes
  • A crude shelter constructed of human skin and a single large piece of driftwood
  • Approximately 4,000 human teeth, piled neatly outside a cave entrance.

Addendum 4820-4: Transcript of a second interview conducted with SCP-4820, the day following its recovery.

<begin log>

Researcher Carlson: Good morning, SCP-4820.

SCP-4820: Hello, doctor. What's new?

Researcher Carlson: I'm here to ask you some questions about the time you spent on the island.

SCP-4820: Sure.

Researcher Carlson: We've recovered the materials you, ah, made. How did you do that?

SCP-4820: Simple enough. I still had my knife at the beginning, so I was able to do some carving. First I made a new one out of bone, because metal doesn't typically last too long around all that salt water.

Researcher Carlson: Right.

SCP-4820: Then I made a net, because I was hoping to add some variety to my diet.

Researcher Carlson: We didn't find a net on the island.

SCP-4820: Of course not. Once I finally made one that would hold together, it didn't do me any good. I hadn't noticed until then, but all the animals avoided that island like the plague. The birds wouldn't even fly over it.

Researcher Carlson: Why not?

SCP-4820: Best I can figure, they could feel there was something wrong. Something…off. I felt it too, sometimes. Maybe it was whatever sick genie gave me this gift. Whatever lived in that cave.

Researcher Carlson: There was an entity in the cave?

SCP-4820: Maybe not an entity, but a presence at least. Something very old. Something very different from you and me. Spooked me if I thought about it too much, but it saved my life that night, so I didn't complain. Still didn't sleep in the cave after that, though.

Researcher Carlson: But you did leave a pile of teeth outside it.

SCP-4820: Had to keep track of the days somehow, right? I've always had really loose teeth. Must be genetic or something, or I wouldn't anymore3. So, in the absence of any real writing materials, I decided I'd use them to keep track of the days. I ripped one out every day at dawn.

Researcher Carlson: But why did you decide to pile them outside the cave?

[SCP-4820 appears confused.]

SCP-4820: Not really sure. Guess I figured a little offering couldn't hurt. [SCP-4820 chuckles nervously]

<end log>


The island where SCP-4820 was stranded.

Addendum 4820-5: Exploration of island and cave.

The unnamed island has a land area of slightly less than one square kilometer at low tide, and only a few hundred square meters at high tide. It is not inhabited by any animals or edible plants. Its only notable terrain feature is an irregular cave entrance approximately 1 meter high and 1.5 meters wide, located near the highest point of the terrain and opening to the south. The entrance allows passage into an elliptical cave, roughly 2 meters wide at its widest point, 2.3 meters high at its highest, and 3 meters deep. Thorough inspection of the cave revealed no anomalous qualities, although personnel did report a “funny feeling”.

Addendum 4820-6: Portion of the third interview with SCP-4820, conducted 2 weeks after initial containment.

<begin log>

Researcher Carlson: Hello again, SCP-4820.

SCP-4820: Hey, doc. Say, do you guys have any tomato sauce?

Researcher Carlson: I can file a request for some if you like.

SCP-4820: Please. I taste better with seasoning.

Researcher Carlson: Yes, well, that's actually why I'm here. To discuss your refusal to accept rations.

SCP-4820: What about it?

Researcher Carlson: Well, we expected that you'd be eager to, uh, inject some more variety into your diet.

SCP-4820: That's what the sauce is for.

Researcher Carlson: But why do you still insist on consuming your, uh, self?

SCP-4820: Doctor, have you ever spent twelve years completely alone? Don't answer that, I know you haven't. When a man's alone for that long, he has to latch onto something, an anchor, if you will, so he doesn't go completely nuts. Some men write books. Some play chess. Me? I had this. [SCP-4820 breaks its right index finger, then watches as it heals.] Infinite healing. Not immortality, though. I still had to eat. My flesh always grew back, but if I didn't eat I would starve. So I ate the only food I had, myself. How many times did I consume myself, recycle the nutrients back into more flesh before eating it again? It was a cycle. A perfect circle, even. I had become the entire food chain. I had become everything. So that's what I latched on to. That circle. It became holy to me. Sacred. And that hasn't changed just because I'm off the island. I think I experienced God out there, in a way. How it felt to be God, eternally eating and being eaten, the beginning and end of everything. And it was a good feeling.

<end log>

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