THIS ARTICLE CONTAINS MULTIPLE PENDING REVISIONS
Further edits are locked at this time
Item #: SCP-5399
Object Class: Safe Euclid/Pending
Special Containment Procedures: A single dormitory room in the D-Class residential wing of Site-19 has been refitted for low-security humanoid containment including a controlled access airlock. Containment shifts are for a duration of eight hours and are assigned in a round-robin format to all personnel residing in the wing. At the conclusion of a containment shift, outgoing personnel is not to leave the cell until their relief has crossed the threshold of the chamber.
PROPOSED PROCEDURAL UPDATE:
At no time is the containment chamber of SCP-5399 to be left unattended or unoccupied. All personnel assisting in the containment of SCP-5399 are barred from carrying headphones, earplugs, or any other device which may interfere with aural acuity. If any member of containment personnel is experiencing either chronic or acute hearing impairment, they are to be immediately exempted from containment rotation until the precipitating condition is cleared.
Due to the nature of SCP-5399, shifts are now limited to a maximum duration of two hours for both containment personnel and security.
Any personnel assigned to the containment of SCP-5399 who are unable to hear the buzzing of a singular fly are to report this to site command immediately. Additionally, any personnel that is not assigned to containment and report a persistent, insect-like buzzing for a period greater than thirty minutes should report this to site command immediately.
Description: SCP-5399 is an antimemetic Musca domestica (common housefly) whose presence can only be inferred rather than directly observed. The typical methods of inference include a persistent but erratic buzzing common to houseflies, and occasional tactile sensations such as the presence of the insect on exposed skin.
SCP-5399 must, at all times, be inferred. Otherwise the object will demanifest and reappear at another location which will allow it to be inferred. There are currently no known means of containing or limiting this effect.
PROPOSED DESCRIPTIVE UPDATE:
The evidence demands that SCP-5399 be reclassified to Euclid and amended to include its secondary effect. It is clear from the events recorded in Amendments 5399.1, 5399.2, and 5399.3 that there are additional psychological pressures and influence being exerted by the object which require a level of interaction beyond the threshold for the 'Safe' object class.
-Dr. Natalie Ellingbrook
Re: PROPOSED DESCRIPTIVE UPDATE
Dr. Ellingbrook, the events of amendments 1, 2, and 3 are a tragic affirmation that we cannot let our guard down after establishing preliminary containment procedures and nothing more. Our analysts and containment specialists have assured me that our procedures are adequate to contain the object and your proposal represents a dramatic over-allotment of resources which, obviously, could be better spent elsewhere. Your proposed changes have been declined.
-Lead Researcher Chalmers
Re: Re: PROPOSED DESCRIPTIVE UPDATE
Dr. Chalmers, this is an irresponsible aversion to the evidence. I must insist that this matter be brought before the Classification Committee as soon as possible and I have CC'd you with a copy of my submission to be put on their agenda. I believe strongly enough in this matter to risk political capital and assurances you've received are not enough to dissuade me. There is more going on here than you're willing to admit to and I will not have a repeat of what happened at Site-35.
-Dr. Ellingbrook
Re: Re: Re: update blah blah
I guess we'll find out at the committee meeting. It's just a fly. One long-lived, hard to observe fly. But just a fly.
-Chalmers
Re: Re: Re: Re update blah blah
You've never spent eight hours in a room with nothing but a fly's buzzing.
-Ellingbrook
Foreword: On 2019-10-10, Foundation Site-35 indicated it had entered a Code Delta emergency state. Emergency relief crews were dispatched and confirmed an uncontrolled fire had consumed the majority of the facility. As Site-35 was primarily a research site, the loss of property was generally confined to specialized equipment and paper records.
Although the majority of on-site servers were destroyed in the fire, several drives in the security array were intact which provided relevant information about the destruction of Site-35. That footage has been appended to this document and transcribed below.
Footage begins from a camera pointed at the containment chamber of SCP-5399. Unidentified members of Research and Security stand next to the open containment chamber. They are speaking with a D-Class whose uniform identifies them as D-2123. Extraneous audio and video have been removed.
Researcher: What do you mean it was gone?
D-2123: Just that. It stopped. I came back from my bathroom break and it was just…well, there was no more buzzing. It's gone.
Researcher: (to security personnel) How long was he in here after the break?
Security: Almost 45 minutes.
Researcher: (to D-2123) So you sat in that chamber twiddling your thumbs for nearly a full hour before you reported something was wrong?
D-2123: Honestly, I thought it would just come back. Not to mention I was just freakin' glad I didn't have to hear the buzzing anymore. I was at my wit's end, dude. Constantly buzzing, flying, landing, in and out zooming, around my ears, on my arm, on my neck, everywhere!
Researcher: Alright. I guess we can't leave this thing alone. Let's alert the site command and find it; this is officially a containment breach. With any luck, someone is getting annoyed by a fly right now and this will be simple. Take this fool back to his bunk first.
Footage begins from a camera in the hallway outside of SCP-5399's containment chamber. The camera repeats a pattern of panning left-to-right on a thirty-second interval. As it scans the hallway, scorch marks are visible on the wall as well as numerous bullet holes of varying calibers. Two bodies lie motionless at the left-most edge of the camera feed.
The camera pans toward the door to SCP-5399 and several splotches of what appears to be blood are visible on the chamber exterior, the adjacent walls, and the floor. A light fixture is partially suspended from the ceiling and flickers intermittently. A slam is heard as a member of security closes the door to the containment cell. They remain slumped against the door for several seconds. Heavy breathing can be heard.
Security: I did it…I finally did it…The buzzing has finally fucking stopped.
The camera continues its monitoring cycle. After three additional passes, the heavy breathing stops abruptly and the security personnel stops moving. A loud insectoid buzzing is picked up by the camera. The source of the sound is not apparent but it appears to deviate wildly up and down the hallway.
Security: Oh for the love of.. (Feed cuts off)
Footage begins from the corner of a darkened interior room. A researcher is visible center-screen however their identity is obscured by a welder's mask. Over the next thirty minutes, they weld several pieces of metal together including tanks, harnesses, and other more delicate apparatus. When their work has concluded, they hoist the finished product onto their back and strike the end with an igniter; the device appears to be a flamethrower. They take several steps closer to the camera and speak to it directly.
Researcher: It's been 24 fucking hours. And I am going to get that goddamn fly if it's the last thing I do. There are way too many protocols to trip the site warhead, and I'll admit that's a bit extreme, but…(They fire a small burst of flame from the end of the device)…this is the next best thing.
The unidentified researcher adjusts their harness then kicks the door open. They leave off-screen.
Footage resumes from the interior of SCP-5399's containment chamber; the room appears empty although an insectoid buzzing can be heard. The sound of stressing metal is heard as thick, black smoke begins to pour in from under the door shortly before it is blown inward. A gout of flame begins to wash over the walls of the room from left-to-right, then up toward the ceiling, as the unidentified researcher incinerates the containment chamber. They point their apparatus at the corner containing the security camera and the camera is destroyed.
Footage resumes in the hallways outside of the containment chamber for SCP-5399. The hallway is partially occluded by thick smoke and particulate. A klaxon is sounding as debris and smoke continue to enter from off-screen. Distant gunfire can be heard. The camera lingers on this setting for approximately thirty seconds before the unidentified researcher and their flamethrower pass through the frame from right-to-left.
Researcher: You're fucking dead you stupid fly. You're fucking dead. Do you hear me?
The researcher stops abruptly and makes a swatting motion above and around their head. As they continue to spin and swat at the air erratically, they unintentionally depress the firing mechanism and a gout of flame engulfs the ceiling above them. The blaze spreads quickly across the ceiling tiles until the camera is destroyed.
Footage resumes in the remains of the cafeteria. On-site fire suppression systems are responding to the blaze but there is already substantial damage. The unidentified researcher sits on the foreground next to the remains of their flamethrower device, as water pelts them. Fire alarms and klaxons can be heard in the distance. Nearly thirty seconds pass before an insectoid buzzing is heard. The researcher's shoulders visibly slump. They begin sobbing and place their head in their hands.