Video Log I- Recovered Materials: Independent Exploration of SCP-6148
Date: 04/03/2020
[BEGIN LOG]
The camera switches on. Shown is a wide stretch of trees, with no notable differences visible. Dr. Lancaster is behind the camera.
Lancaster: I…
Dr. Lancaster takes a deep breath.
Lancaster: I owe you an explanation.
Dr. Lancaster repositions the camera to view his face. His skin is pale, and his hands are completely still.
Lancaster: I can hear them. What they're saying, I don't know. I don't understand tree. I can't figure that out yet, although I have some suspicions. SCP-6148, somehow, from somewhere, is calling me. It's not with words, it's a… feeling? A tug in my gut. I can't leave because of it. Earlier, with Abig-
Dr. Lancaster cuts himself off, shaking slightly. After about thirty seconds, he recomposes himself.
Lancaster: -with Dr. Wynne, when we were at the edge, the feeling changed. Before, it was a nagging sensation, just a feeling that something was wrong, but as we got closer to that border, it felt like a tug in my head- fucking with me, preventing me from thinking straight, pulling my thoughts towards the center. If my mind was a physical thing- a soul, perhaps- it was being pulled out of my body and dragged away, and I had no choice but to follow it and put it back in me.
Dr. Lancaster picks up the camera and begins walking. He chuckles and sighs.
Lancaster: A forest gave me a panic attack. Isn't that fucked?
Lancaster: Funnily enough, this tug lets me know where to go. I know when I'm getting farther from the edge when the tug gets weaker. It's a gross feeling of satisfaction, spawned from the absence of pain rather than the presence of pleasure. So I follow it, if only to cease this nagging sensation in my body. And while I'm here, and I have a camera, I guess I'll record as much as I can. I'm gonna sleep.
[END LOG]
Video Log II- Recovered Materials: Independent Exploration of SCP-6148
Date: 04/04/2020
[BEGIN LOG]
The camera turns on. Shown is the same grouping of trees at the end of the last log. Dr. Lancaster is walking and eating. His skin is paling.
Lancaster: I think it's morning. Couldn't know for sure, though. I trip every five seconds. I don't feel the pull as much as yesterday, but it's still there, letting me know where to go. I've got my own damn compass. Hope I don't turn magnetic.
Lancaster: I hate this food. I've got about five days left, and after that- well, I don't really know. I wasn't meant to be a field agent, just a scientist and a one-day research trip. I don't know how to survive in the wild. I can't wait to get-
The log cuts off abruptly.
[END LOG]
Video Log III- Recovered Materials: Independent Exploration of SCP-6148
Date: 04/06/2020
[BEGIN LOG]
Dr. Lancaster stares at the camera as it turns on. He is gaunt, but his skin is a healthier color than before. Above is a stream of light breaking through the canopy.
Lancaster: It's my third day in here. I've been sitting here, in this small strain of light, waiting for this thing to charge. Died in the middle of the last recording. Took five hours to find a spot where there was enough light, and a full day to charge it. Apparently when the battery dies, it needs to charge to full before it can be turned back on. R&D can crank out new stuff faster than anyone, but damn if they don't send it through enough QA testing first.
Lancaster: Since I haven't been continuing the journey, I've been conserving food. The sun is doing me good for now, but eating one meal per day is… tough. Four days of food left, though. Hope it's enough to get me where I need to go. Where that is, I'm still not sure. The pull gets stronger when I get hungrier, like it's filling the gap in my stomach that's normally filled by food. When I've eaten, it gets weaker.
Lancaster: Now that the camera's charged, I have no reason to stay here. I've got to move. Goodbye for now.
[END LOG]
Video Log IV- Recovered Materials: Independent Exploration of SCP-6148
Date: 04/09/2020
[BEGIN LOG]
The camera is already moving when it turns on. Dr. Lancaster is walking at a brisk pace, frequently tripping over roots as he occasionally shifts direction.
Lancaster: I've been walking for a few days to no end. It's still just trees in every direction, with my body telling me where to go. It's been empty, moving straight but still feeling directionless. A few minutes ago, the pull changed. It's going in two directions now, one much stronger than the other. There's something nearby, and whatever it is has its roots sunk deeply into the core of this place. I think it wants to be seen.
Dr. Lancaster stops hiking, seemingly struck by his own words.
Lancaster: I realize I've been talking about SCP-6148 very differently from how a Foundation researcher should. I've been treating it as if it were a human: someone with thoughts, feelings, and desires, but there has been no reasonable amount of evidence for the sentience of this forest. And until I see anything otherwise, I should continue to refer to it as an SCP, not as a person. But I probably won't. It's like my anxiety- a little troll in my brain, telling me things that aren't real.
In the distance several large shapes appear of unknown identity, shrouded in fog. They are out of visible range for Dr. Lancaster. Despite this, he begins to move faster.
Lancaster: It's close. I can't see it, but it's nearby. The pull grows stronger.
Dr. Lancaster continues to walk, continuing his pace. As he walks, the camera shakes, showing him stepping over roots, seemingly effortlessly.
Dr. Lancaster stops, clearly noticing the shapes in the distance. For several minutes, Dr. Lancaster walks silently forward. A small town comes into view as Dr. Lancaster gasps.
Lancaster: A ghost town… it's not stopping. I feel empty, tired, hungry. I… what happened here?
The state of the town becomes visible as Dr. Lancaster progresses to the middle of the street. Buildings are decrepit and run-down, cars are still and covered with dust, and vegetation has run rampant throughout the area. Roads have been cracked and upturned by roots. SCP-6148-1 is abundant, growing through roofs, walls, and paths. Several of them show signs of age similar to those found in earlier research. The region is noticeably darker than the rest of the forest, likely due to the density of trees being even higher than previously shown. There is no sign of human life anywhere.
Lancaster: There's so much destruction… I had hoped to find answers when I followed my gut, but… this just leaves me with more questions.
Lancaster: It's like it was hit by a tornado. Run through with no care for what happens, destroying everything there and letting everything die. Are we allowed to be angry at it, if it didn't know what it was doing? What will come of us when we are struck by our own tornadoes? Will we fall to pieces in the face of our imminent demise, or will we stand strong and face it? What will happen when we…
Dr. Lancaster pauses and laughs for several seconds.
Lancaster: I'm so hungry, I'm philosophizing. This is the SCP Foundation, not Ancient Greece.
After a few more minutes, Dr. Lancaster's speech picks up again, slurring as he walks.
Lancaster: Cellars. Refrigerators? Anything. Help me.
Dr. Lancaster limps towards a nearby house as he continues to speak under his breath. Most of his words are unintelligible.
Lancaster: …trees, everything I do is being controlled by these goddamn sticks of wood that have no idea I'm even here and I just want to leave and-
Dr. Lancaster approaches the front of a house. The door is knocked down, as the doorframe has been split open by a root.
Lancaster: …nothing I say or do can possibly get them to get out of my head or my body and it's driving me insane because I can't see my-
Tripping inside the house, he continues to move forwards.
Lancaster: …and it's pulling me in farther away from any chance I have of escape but I have to know why it's doing this to me and-
Dr. Lancaster approaches a staircase. Several SCP-6148-1 specimens have burst through the staircase, rendering the upper floors of the house inaccessible. A downward staircase is visible, descending into the dark.
Lancaster: …they'll keep growing and growing because they're mad at us for what we've done to them but I'll never be able to give them what they want from me-
Dr. Lancaster stumbles down the stairs. In the dark is a cellar filled with supplies: canned meat, beans, and bottled water, some of which were empty, but most of which were unopened. Some hand tools are visible, including a handsaw and hammer. An instance of SCP-6148-1 is rooted deeply into the floor, likely one of the ones breaching the staircase above.
Lancaster: …can I? Have they chosen me because I can provide what they need? In the end, perhaps they want me to be with them… because…
Dr. Lancaster drops the camera. As it tumbles to the ground, for a few frames a shelf is shown, upon which several jars of an unidentified liquid are placed.
Lancaster: … because soon, only the trees will remain.
Dr. Lancaster faints, landing next to the camera. His face is almost pure white, and his clothes are ragged and torn. The skin around his lips and nose is cracked and dry. His body is almost completely still.
The camera continues to roll. For several hours, there is no change in Dr. Lancaster's body position, and his breathing is not visible on camera, either extremely shallow or not present. After sixteen hours, the feed goes dark, presumably from the battery life of the camera running out.
[END LOG]
Video Log V- Recovered Materials: Independent Exploration of SCP-6148
Date: 04/15/2020
[BEGIN LOG]
The feed begins. Shown is the same basement as before, but noticeably brighter; a hole can be seen in the top, and sunlight is visible. On the ground is a set of tools, some of which are from Dr. Lancaster's supply pack, others from the basement. The cans are completely empty, and the water bottles are almost so. The jars of unidentified liquid have been laid out on the floor, one of which is half empty. Dr. Lancaster is sitting down in the corner of the room, staring at the camera. His skin and face is in a healthier state than before. It is several minutes before he speaks.
Lancaster: I don't know what happened that day. I got close to this building and blacked out. I have some vague recollection of things- the layout of the first floor of this house, the path from the center of town to here- but I don't remember getting here.
Lancaster: It's been six days since I hit the floor. That, I know. It's been two since I woke up. How I slept for four days, I don't know. Over the course of these two days I've been eating canned food and drinking bottled water, and now I'm out. The pull is back to one direction. Perhaps the second one was bringing me to the food? I don't know.
Dr. Lancaster furrows his brow, seemingly lost in thought.
Lancaster: I almost died of several things that day. Once from hunger, once from dehydration, and once from exhaustion. That should be fairly obvious from what I've recorded so far, and it's not what I'm concerned about. What's concerning to me is that I woke up at all. I should have been dead: no food for a full day, no water for four, and not a single good sleep in two weeks. What happened was quite to the contrary: I woke up invigorated. Not in my prime, of course- I hadn't had any fucking food- but I felt significantly better than before I lost consciousness, as if I had just had a nice meal and gone for a refreshing walk.
Lancaster: Great, right? Four days of rest, and then I'm feeling good for the first time in a while! Here's the caveat: whatever that stuff is on the floor is why. I woke up with a half empty jar of it next to me. Somehow, some way, I consumed it while asleep.
Lancaster: I think I may have to take them with me. I'm out of food, and this is the only thing left down here that could count as any kind of nourishment. I've got to check the other houses first. This stuff kept me alive for a while, and presumably could do so for a while longer, but on the other hand I'd also rather eat literally anything else at any possible opportunity.
Dr. Lancaster turns off the camera and switches it back on a few minutes later. When the camera finishes focusing, he is outside.
Lancaster: I'm gonna take a quick run through a bunch of the houses, and scrounge up what I can.
Dr. Lancaster walks to several houses and searches their basements. None of them have food, apart from each of them having a differently sized stockpile of the unknown substance. Dr. Lancaster becomes visibly distressed as he puts more and more into his pack.
Lancaster: There's nothing else here. This stuff is the only nutritional substance in the whole town. To be honest, if that doesn't scream "cult," I don't know what does.
Lancaster: I've got to get the hell out of here. Nerves are going up. I'm shaking. Should I be shaking? I don't know. My stomach feels empty, but the thought of eating anything makes me want to puke. I think… I think I'm going to record myself eating that stuff, if I ever do. The Foundation should know.
Lancaster: I'm going to start walking away. This place is giving me the creeps, more than anywhere else so far. It's desolate. Goodbye for now, I guess.
[END LOG]
Video Log VI- Recovered Materials: Independent Exploration of SCP-6148
Date: 04/18/2020
[BEGIN LOG]
The camera turns on with Dr. Lancaster sitting on a root. He is once again gaunt and sickly, with pale skin and shrunken lips. He is holding the half-filled jar of liquid from before. When he speaks, his voice is whisper-quiet and crackly.
Lancaster: It's been three days since I have eaten. One since water. More since I've felt any kind of energized. I'm so stiff. I think I need some oil for my joints, heh. Hunger is just about ready to consume me. Why haven't I had any of that stuff, you're asking?
Lancaster: Truth is, I'm scared. I've been here for two weeks now, and it feels like I've done nothing. After so long I made it to a town with nobody in it and a bunch of goop in jars. If anything, I'm left with more questions than I had before. And this damn pulling, this incessant, nonstop, constant pulling, on my mind and soul and body- it's going to be the death of me. For the past day I've been trudging across the forest, following the direction my body tells me to go, and not thinking about my own health. My mental health is shot already. That is, more than it was when I entered.
Lancaster: Clearly it's anomalous, otherwise it wouldn't have done this. But goddamn if it isn't terrifying. Putting whoever-knows-what in my body, just to keep myself alive long enough to get to the center of a forest I wasn't supposed to be in for more than a day, just to give information to people I'll never see again. It's all fucked, man.
Dr. Lancaster opens the jar and holds it up to his lips. His hands are shaking.
Lancaster: Bottoms up.
The liquid flows out of the jar with a consistency similar to honey. A long trail enters Dr. Lancaster's mouth, who recoils slightly. He continues to wait as the remaining contents of the jar pour into his mouth. The liquid continues to flow down his throat as he begins to gag. Over the course of the next thirty seconds, he starts to convulse violently as he chokes. Signs of asphyxiation are visible, including a reddened face, constriction of the throat and nose, and crossed eyes. After a full minute of choking, Dr. Lancaster collapses to the ground, gasping for air and panting.
It is fifteen minutes of panting before Dr. Lancaster slows his breathing and sits up. As he speaks, his voice is noticeably different, nasal and shrill.
Lancaster: That was hell. I don't know what I expected that to taste like, but it was worse than I could have ever imagined. It was… metallic. Salty. Like fucking gasoline. Too liquid to chew, and too solid to swallow. I can still feel it, coating the back of my throat, like the worst cup of tea you've ever had does. It's… muck. I just let half a mason jar of gasoline-flavored molasses slide down my throat. I still can't goddamn breathe. Never in my life have I had my breathing restricted for several minutes by eating something. I… I don't ever want to do that again. Ever. I think I'd rather die.
Lancaster: Definitely a cult. Sickos. Good night, camera.
[END LOG]
Video Log VII- Recovered Materials: Independent Exploration of SCP-6148
Date: 04/19/2020
[BEGIN LOG]
It is morning. Dr. Lancaster looks noticeably healthier than the previous log.
Lancaster: Hello. I'm feeling better today. Not like I could run a mile, but… satisfied. Like I've eaten a full, hearty breakfast. It's a nice feeling, one I haven't felt in a while. I've still got the taste in my throat, and the pull in my gut. It's different now. Much more bearable, now that my stomach is full. I still know which way to go. Forward, always forward. I haven't looked back yet, and I won't now. More walking.
Lancaster: I may begin recording less now. It's just trees and trees and trees, as far as the eye can see. Not much of note. In the meantime, I've got to work on this camera.
[END LOG]
Video Log VIII- Recovered Materials: Independent Exploration of SCP-6148
Date: 04/21/2020
[BEGIN LOG]
Lancaster: Something is changing. The pull is more defined, more articulate. So far, it's had two traits- direction and intensity. But now there's another one, hard to describe. A further detail? I can feel how it's affecting me. A tingling in my fingers and toes, and over my skin. If anything, it reminds me of being underwater, a subtle pressure on my whole body. It's not overpowering, the pressure isn't painful, but in a way it tells me where my boundaries lie. I can feel where my body ends and the air begins, just from the light touch of the forest. My body- humans' bodies- have boundaries, sections of ourselves that separates us from everything else. On most of the surface, it's the skin, but in other places it's something else- skin, or nails, or hair.
Lancaster: But feeling this boundary- the one between me and the world around me- is concerning. In the past, I've never felt it before- after all, who feels the edges of their skin? But something in here, whether it knows it or not, is heightening my senses, telling me where I end and it begins.
Dr. Lancaster lifts his hand and observes it, turning over his palm and flexing his fingers.
Lancaster: If you've ever looked at your finger with one eye, you'd see a tiny fraction of space around it that looks warped, light itself seeming to move unnaturally due to how our eyes focus. Our brains filter most of it out, but some remains. This light-warping, a phenomenon that exists only due to how we view the world, not how it actually exists, creates an outline around all of us, a visual border around everything that is visible only to us. Isn't that remarkable? We humans have a feature built into our brains that shows us things that aren't real. It feels like a bubble, like everyone is surrounded by their own little light-field that they only notice when they look really hard. But I… I can feel mine now. I can feel where "me" ends and "everything else" begins.
Lancaster: And that border… it's fading. Slowly, gradually, as I grow closer to the center of this forest, my outline is being pulled from me, converging towards a single point. Some part of me is being pulled faster than I am, moving farther and farther away from my body. It's like it's a few feet away from me, always in front, and the farther I get, the faster it's going. I'm not chasing it- it only moves when I do- but it feels like it's moving farther and farther away from me.
Lancaster: The weight of my soul is being subjected to the gravity of the forest, and I don't know how long it'll be until I lose track of it.
[END LOG]
Video Logs- Recovered Materials: Independent Exploration of SCP-6148- Corrupted Footage
Several of the recovered videos are heavily corrupted, presumably due to Dr. Lancaster's tampering with his camera. Due to their length, they have been grouped together, organized by date.
Lancaster: … think I got the camera working. If I don't turn it on for a full week, it turns on automatically and records for an hour. I still haven't figured out how to send the data back to Site, but I know where to put it once I do. I don't know how long it'll take me to get this done, though, because this damn [FOOTAGE CORRUPTED]
When the recording begins, Dr. Lancaster is already speaking, seemingly unprompted and not to the camera. The camera is attached to his shoulder.
Lancaster: … getting closer. Closer, closer. Center is near. Ever closer. Where is it? Where has my soul gone?
[FOOTAGE CORRUPTED]
Lancaster: …losing blood gimme yours help me
Dr. Lancaster stops moving and begins to whisper.
Lancaster: …keep it flowing.
Dr. Lancaster stumbles to the ground and is heard crying.
Lancaster: Do I deserve this?
[FOOTAGE CORRUPTED]
The camera automatically switches on as Dr. Lancaster is sat on the ground with his legs crossed. The camera is on the floor, likely after falling off of his shoulder. He is holding one of the jars of liquid and staring at it. His pupils are enlarged, almost to where they encompass his entire eyes. His figure is gaunt, and his bone structure is visible. He shows signs of severe malnutrition, possibly not having eaten in the three weeks since consuming the liquid for the first time. He is shaking as he tips the jar towards him.
Lancaster: …more blood.
Dr. Lancaster watches as the entire jar's contents flow down his throat. Unlike his previous attempt, he does not convulse or choke, gulping several times per second as he motionlessly swallows. Despite the level of liquid being over twice as much as last time, Dr. Lancaster takes about the same amount of time to swallow as before. After he finishes swallowing, he collapses to the ground, enters the fetal position, and sobs. When he speaks, his voice is constricted and gravelly.
Lancaster: …never enough blood. will never be enough.
[FOOTAGE CORRUPTED]
Dr. Lancaster's cadence shifts repeatedly, as if he were having a conversation with himself.
Lancaster: Kill me. Later. Kill me. Later. Kill me.
Lancaster: When?
Lancaster: Now?
[FOOTAGE CORRUPTED]
Dr. Lancaster is shown drinking an entire jar of liquid from one of the jars while crying. His skin is smooth, almost unnaturally so, as he swallows. After several minutes of heavy breathing, he screams, and the camera cuts.
[FOOTAGE CORRUPTED]
Dr. Lancaster is once again shown draining a jar of liquid into his mouth. His face is stretched and waxy. When he finishes, he stares at the camera. His eyes are bloodshot and crazed.
Lancaster: …deep beneath the surface of this world…
Dr. Lancaster turns and throws the jar to the ground, shattering it violently.
Lancaster: …at the very center of the forest…
Dr. Lancaster's gaze returns to the camera.
Lancaster: There is something truly evil.
[FOOTAGE CORRUPTED]
Video Log XVI- Recovered Materials: Independent Exploration of SCP-6148
Date: 06/05/2020
[BEGIN LOG]
The camera turns on to show Dr. Lancaster staring at the camera. His skin is of a normal tone and texture, much healthier than in the several logs before. There is no corrupted footage for the entirety of this log, or for future logs.
Lancaster: Here's something odd. I've been walking for a long, long time. I don't remember sleeping, or eating, or turning on the camera, or talking, or pissing or shitting or crying or panicking. I have been walking for months with no breaks at all, and I haven't felt like doing any of those things in a while.
Lancaster: There are five empty jars in my supply. I've got one left. I don't know what happened to them, or what they might be doing to me, but I'm not hungry- and I haven't felt hunger in a while. I don't think I've felt much of anything in some time, and when I do… it's not good.
Lancaster: I feel like I've been a prisoner in my own body for so long now. Sometimes I have control- brief, fleeting moments of clarity- but most of my movements have become autonomous, happening without my input or idea.
Dr. Lancaster presses his fingers into his temple.
Lancaster: Something is in here. I can tell. Something else's outline is supplanting mine. Perhaps… perhaps many.
Lancaster: Asleep in my own consciousness, stuck in the forest; unable to think, unable to breathe. I'm there, I can feel it. Just a few more days.
[END LOG]
Video Log XVII- Recovered Materials: Independent Exploration of SCP-6148
Date: 06/07/2020
[BEGIN LOG]
As the system activates, Dr. Lancaster is already speaking, presumably having turned on the camera and then switched cadence shortly after.
Lancaster: …she's gonna help me right? …where are you? …where are all of them? …there's so much blood. there- the- the eyes of the soul of the many are incapable of enduring the gaze of the divine.
Dr. Lancaster exclaims as he falls to the ground.
Lancaster: Agh! I… what the hell? I turned on the camera, and then blacked out again. For a moment, I was somewhere else. Dark. Moist. Full of life. Ready to spawn more, and hungry for the resources to do so.
Lancaster: My outline has reached the middle, and for a split second I was there.
Lancaster: II will reach the center today. I will find what is wrong with me, and with this accursed forest. And then…
[END LOG]
Video Log XVIII- Recovered Materials: Independent Exploration of SCP-6148
Date: 06/07/2020
[BEGIN LOG]
The video begins not long after the completion of the previous one. Dr. Lancaster is stood in front of a house. Around him is an even higher density of SCP-6148-1 instances than before, and all of them are decayed. Of all areas shown on camera thus far, this location has by far the most decay.
As Dr. Lancaster steps towards the house, its features become more visible: it is composed entirely out of vegetation. Its walls and roof are shaped from trees that are still rooted in the ground. Notably, these trees have no leaves or branches, implying that they may not be specimens of SCP-6148-1.
Dr. Lancaster enters the house, through the empty doorframe. He does not speak as he ventures though the house. On the walls are several groups of writing, etched into the bark. Among them is English sentences, Ancient Greek lettering, and symbols of an unknown origin. The English sentences are all indecipherable, save for a few words, and the Greek is equally so. Among the visible English lettering is "FEED," "BLOOD," and "TREES." Liquid leaks from the ceiling.
Lancaster: This place is ancient. Older than me, older than that town, perhaps older than the forest itself. These markings… they're not recent. I am not the first person to find this place, not by hundreds of years.
Lancaster: My outline- my soul- has diffused. I can feel it, all over here, spreading throughout the forest. I feel at home here, if anything. But I know that I shouldn't. This place is wrong, it's off-kilter, it offends everything human in me. But some of me likes it. And that must… That must…
Lancaster: …it must mean that I'm not all human anymore. This stuff that I've been eating, it's kept me alive, but I've wondered- what's the cost? Some of me is gone, and something else is in its place. Some remnant of the soul of this forest, of its trees, has wormed its way into my mind, and there it lays, ready to end me for who I am.
Lancaster: The human consciousness is like a ball of string. It's built to be manipulated, flexed, and stored. Pull the right strands and put them in the right places and you make a beautiful tapestry, a celebration of how wonderful our lives can be or have been. A testament to the resilience of our species. But touch it in the wrong places and pull a little bit too hard, and it all begins to unravel. One small tug in the wrong location can unwind everything, all the progress we've made on ourselves, with enough time.
Lancaster: I am unraveling, and there's nobody around to stop it. The fragments of my life are being cast across the forest, spread so thin that they cannot be classified as me anymore.
Dr. Lancaster leaves the house and sits on the front steps, looking past the camera, off into the distance. His eyes are cloudy and his brow is furrowed.
Lancaster: I will check in when I can. I do not know when that will be. I am going to stay here, drinking this disgusting slime, until I run out. And then I will die.
Lancaster: At least, I hope I will.
[END LOG]
Video Log XIX- Recovered Materials: Independent Exploration of SCP-6148
Date: 06/14/2020
[BEGIN LOG]
Dr. Lancaster is sat inside the center of the house's living room. On the floor next to him is the last empty jar. His hands are covered with blood and the anomalous liquid. His eyes are dilated, and his skin is waxy- stretched tight. He seems confused, lost in thought. In the back of the room, behind him, there are more sigils, carved into the walls. Liquid oozes from them- they have been created recently.
Lancaster: When… When did I get here? How long have I been here?
Dr. Lancaster opens and closes his mouth several times as he furrows his brow.
Lancaster: Months. Months since I've come here. Months since I've seen the world. Weeks…
Dr. Lancaster's cadence shifts slightly, and his posture changes to become straighter.
Lancaster: Weeks since I was invited into here. The forest of immortals. I have endured their trials, and they have rewarded me with the nectar of the gods. It has sustained me, readying me for the transformation. My body is ready… but am I?
Dr. Lancaster shakes slightly, and changes to his normal cadence.
Lancaster: How long has it been, since I've been me? Who have I become, and what has brought me here?
Lancaster: For some time now- when I've been in control, at least- I've questioned the nature of my ailment. And I think I may have figured it out- some of it, at least.
Lancaster: I have been hearing voices. They started the moment I entered this place. They were subdued, quiet- enough to make me believe that they weren't human. They died down once I abandoned my team. And they didn't pick back up, not until I woke up in that damn basement. Something is in this liquid that brought the voices back. And they weren't subdued this time, they're right up in my head, constantly talking and screaming and laughing and crying and they've only gotten worse since.
Lancaster: Sometimes, they take control. One of their voices becomes my voice, and I am cast out into the ether, placed in stasis, waiting for myself to return. And when I'm me, I've been asking myself… what do they want from me?
Lancaster: Here's the sickest, weirdest part: absolutely fucking nothing.
Dr. Lancaster pauses to breathe.
Lancaster: They're not seizing control, or ordering my body around- the voices in my head don't speak to me, or to each other. They're experiencing lives, reliving memories, and crying out for help. A thousand lost souls, all stuck in my head, driving me to insanity.
Lancaster: And one of them… One of them made this place. Or at least, lived here, in a little wooden house in the center of an ever-growing forest. And when their voice conquers mine-
Dr. Lancaster looks around, particularly at the newly created sigils behind him.
Lancaster: -boy, they've been up to something. And based on the fact that it's been using my blood and the last jar of stuff that kept me alive, I don't think it's something good. Given what's happening with everyone else in here…
Dr. Lancaster taps his temple with one finger.
Lancaster: …they might not even know they're doing it, just a centuries-old memory repeating what it did before.
Lancaster: Either way, I don't think I want to see it finish.
[END LOG]
Video Log XX- Recovered Materials: Independent Exploration of SCP-6148
Date: 06/16/2020
[BEGIN LOG]
Dr. Lancaster is in the same position as the previous log, despite a two full days passing.
Lancaster: I have decided: today is the day that I die. When I finish recording this log, I am sending them back to the Foundation. I hope that they will aid in containment- and maybe give them something to remember me by.
Lancaster: It has been eerily quiet in my mind. I have sat here unmoving since the last recording, pondering what to do with myself. How will I end my life? Starvation doesn't seem like it will do it- whenever I get hungry, they take control again, and I wake up satisfied. The only way to end it is to surrender to them.
Dr. Lancaster lays down and stares at the ceiling.
Lancaster: I'm exhausted. I'm fucking tired of this place, dying slowly while I sustain myself on god-knows-what as I trudge through this desolate place. Never in my life have I found a place so full of life yet so… so wrong, so warped, so devoid of anything that makes nature special to me. It's so much more primal than the nature I'm used to, not caring who or what it destroys as it grows and grows.
Lancaster: These trees- they've been watching me. For a very long time, maybe even before I came here. They extended their wooden fingers and grabbed me the moment I stepped foot in here. I was lost before I realized it. These trees…
Dr. Lancaster spreads his arms to the side.
Lancaster: …they have eyes.
Dr. Lancaster sits up and stares at the camera.
Lancaster: This is who I am, and this is all I will ever be. A broken man in a wooden house at the center of an ever-growing forest.
Lancaster: Goodbye, SCP Foundation.
Lancaster: Goodbye, Abigail. I love you.
[END LOG]