rating: +214+x
Item#: 6740
Containment Class:
Secondary Class:
Disruption Class:
Risk Class:


Entrance of SCP-6740.

Assigned Site Site Director Research Head Assigned Task Force
Site-19 Tilda Moose Dr. Everett Mann N/A

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-6740 is contained within its location of discovery. Due to that location being within an active Foundation site, no external containment procedures are required.

Pursuant to the terms of Ethics Committee Memorandum 9.14.19A, access to SCP-6740 is permitted to any Foundation personnel with appropriate clearances to be working within Site-19. Individuals who desire to enter SCP-6740 must sign in with the desk clerk at the entrance to the 7th subterranean level of the E-Wing.


The entrance of SCP-6740, as seen from within the anomaly.

Description: SCP-6740 is an extradimensional spatial incursion manifesting within the unused offices on floor E7B of Site-19, specifically in the office formerly occupied by the now defunct Office of Personnel Arrangements1. SCP-6740 manifests as a region of the empty office that has had its spatial geometry altered significantly; specifically, the area directly adjacent to SCP-6740 no longer has a visible ceiling. Support columns throughout the office now extend indefinitely upwards into space, which itself presents as a starry sky in a perpetual state of dusk.

On the far end of the former Office of Personnel Arrangements is the entrance to SCP-6740 proper; a large, white doorway in an ornate frame in the shape of a horned stag situated into the wall that previously separated the main floor space of the office with an adjoining storage room. The doorway is the only access point to SCP-6740; attempting to enter SCP-6740 through any other means, such as scaling one of the office walls, is impossible, as SCP-6740 is simply not present beyond the wall unless entered through the main door.

Beyond the door is SCP-6740 proper; an expansive mausoleum constructed out of polished marble tile with iron fixtures. The full size of SCP-6740 is impossible to determine - SCP-6740's inner dimensions appear to increase over time. Despite its expansive size, research indicates that it is impossible to become lost within SCP-6740; individuals who wish to leave SCP-6740 will quickly find themselves at the mausoleum's exit.

The contents of the vaults within SCP-6740 have been a point of some uncertainty - while the total number of vaults has thus far been impossible to ascertain, it is currently recognized that every vault thus far catalogued within SCP-6740 has been the vault for a deceased member of Foundation staff, a civilian contractor working with the Foundation, a member of D-Class, or an individual identified to have perished during the containment or containment attempt of another anomaly.

Radiographic analysis indicates that there are humanoid figures within each of the vaults, though the exact nature and makeup of those figures is unknown, and the vaults themselves have thus far been impossible to open. Due to the Foundation's policy of cremating the remains of all staff or other associated individuals, it is uncertain as to whether or not the figures within the vaults are the original bodies of the deceased individuals, and attempts at exhumation of other relevant persons have been inconclusive.


Statue on top of the engraved pedestal within the mausoleum entryway.

The interior of SCP-6740 is consistent across its entire area with a single exception - a bronze statue of a stag standing atop a black marble plinth is present within the entryway of the mausoleum, just beyond the first set of vaults. Radiographic analysis of the plinth indicates that there is a humanoid figure within a vault below the platform as well.

On the front of the marble plinth is an engraved poem, in English. The origin of the poem is unknown. The full text is available below.

I was born sleeping,
my eyes closed to the
harsh light and cold truth
of a world beyond the
four walls of my youth.

As a child I would gaze
into the darkness of night
and wonder if there were
more secrets left to be
known, or if the last of
the dragons had died
when the sun set in
a much younger sky.

It was here we saw with
opened eyes that long
hidden truth of our world:
it was never ours alone,
and it was never without
secrets hidden in the dark.

I had wandered, unknowing,
for timeless years like a fawn
alone in a quiet forest, but
within this hallowed temple
to the best of our intentions
did I find purpose in our mission.

To secure that old darkness,
To contain what lies within,
To protect what lies without.

My part to play was but as
a single actor on a stage
far larger than I had mind
or reason to comprehend,
yet it was a part all the same.

When the crook of the
Reaper came for me, I did
not lament my passing, for
I did so with open eyes,
able at last to see the stars
in the sky of my childhood.

Now here do I rest, with
those nameless multitudes
who, by desire or design,
laid their lives aside on the
road of our common passage.

Within our shared grave
lie we who sleep again,
our part now complete
and our curtains drawn.

We had dreamt of dragons,
and found angels among us.



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