rating: +260+x

3/5218 LEVEL 3/5218
Item #: SCP-5218

SPECIAL CONTAINMENT PROCEDURES: SCP-5218 has been disassembled and its remains disposed of safely.

DESCRIPTION: SCP-5218 was a large industrial machine of unclear purpose, discovered in a secure chamber aboard the Norwegian cargo ship Sjøavfall in 2013. Externally, SCP-5218 resembles a simple metal cube 3m wide, weighing 200kg, constructed of a metallic alloy of unclear composition. All attempts to force open, pierce, or otherwise damage SCP-5218 have ended in failure.

All faces of SCP-5218 are flat save for one. All faces furthermore display a metal stamp reading "PROPERTY OF THE DEPARTMENT OF ABNORMALITIES."

One face contains a simple pull-open metal cabinet that pulls flush when closed, and when opened allows a small space to drop objects into while blocking vision into the rest of the device. Below this is a small rectangular slot akin to that of a vending machine.

Upon placing an item or items into the metal cabinet and closing it, allowing the item to fall in, SCP-5218 will vibrate for a varying length of time, generally a few seconds to a minute, and release a single item into the output slot. These items vary in practically every quality save for their size; all are small enough to fit into the slot.

Upon SCP-5218's discovery in 2013, it was immediately shipped to Site-19 for experimentation. Over the course of the following month, several tests were performed on SCP-5218. An abridged list of experiments follows.

Addendum 5218.1


Input: A single apple, Red Delicious variety

Output: A military-surplus MRE of the variety used across Foundation sites. Chicken alfredo flavor.

Input: A 1kg granite stone.

Output: A small poster tube containing detailed blueprints of Sublevels 1 through 5 of Site-19.

Input: A 2kg weight.

Output: A plastic trophy covered in dried blood. DNA of the blood has been matched to Leon Abrams, a now-deceased former Site-19 security guard. Abrams' body was cremated after death.

Input: A plastic cube.

Output: A Nokia 3310 cellphone with one number programmed into its directory. The area code correlates to Tennesee, but all attempts to trace the phone number have failed. Attempting to call it simply results in a generic out of service error.

Input: A single bullet.

Output: An armed grenade. The pin had been pulled but the safety lever had not been released, preventing its detonation. A security team safely disposed of the bomb without incident. The grenade was inscribed with the Foundation logo, but detailed analysis could not be performed for obvious reasons.

Input: A single dead lab rat.

Output: A MTF-issue Bowie knife. 13 scratches have been carved into the flat of the otherwise-pristine blade.

Input: A single live lab rat.

Output: Screaming from inside the machine, followed by a Clearance Level 4 keycard belonging to one Dr. Daniel Jackson. Investigation confirmed Dr. Jackson, a researcher at Site-19, had submitted a request for a new card several months ago, stating he had lost his.

[45 entries abridged.]

Addendum 5218.2


Following the conclusion of the final test, SCP-5218 was moved to Sublevel 28 for long-term storage and surveillance. Exactly 7 days, to the hour, after the conclusion of the last test, SCP-5218 began to vibrate for several minutes. Security guards and researchers entered the room to investigate. Upon their entry, several seams in the exterior of SCP-5218 became visible as it unfolded via several hydraulic pistons and hinged arms, revealing its interior.

The internal structure of SCP-5218 revealed that all items put into the cabinet slide down a chute into a plastic container of hydrofluoric acid, completely dissolving them. Sensors that detected an item going down the chute would trigger a circuit to release an item from an internal storage container, that would slide down into the output slot. The internal container contained a variety of miscellanous items ranging from children's toys to simple electronics to loose mail. There does not appear to be a correlation between the item put into SCP-5218 and the item outputted by it.

In addition, a metal shelf inside held a single placard, with the following text embossed on it:


By Rami Salman

Three words and I can waste your entire month.


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