The following exploration notes, compiled from field logs recorded between 4 October, 2013, and 3 December, 2013, are provided courtesy of consulting researcher Dr. Lucretius Brown.
4 October, 2013
In spite of the thousands who inhabit SCP-7289-A, this place has the look of a town that's been abandoned for decades. There are few civilians: no workers, no residents, no street sweepers and no shopkeepers. What few businesses operate are fronts for the various gangs that control this territory, and they function only by the loosest standards. It is still not clear how residents obtain the resources they need to survive: though they loot snack foods from empty convenience stores, and give out heroin like it's candy, the goods never run dry.
The only other living humans I've observed consistently in SCP-7289-A are the street people. They avoid the gangs at all costs, except to procure drugs or seek protection when they have no other options. They hide in boarded up buildings without heat, water or electricity, and rarely show their faces. I've tried to identify them, or at least learn more about where they came from and how they got here, but my efforts have been ineffective. They all show severely diminished mental capacity, and even if I could conduct a coherent interview, I doubt they would trust me enough to talk.
27 October, 2013
In the past weeks I've gotten to know SCP-7289-A well. I've come to learn the landmarks and shortcuts, territory lines and hiding places. More than that, I've come to understand the heart of those who dwell here.
It's easy to see that they were once police. Their disdain for the criminal element is palpable, and their contempt for their surroundings is clear in every broken window and every bullet fired.
Every day I wonder if they could come to peace if only they knew where their neighbors came from. As the source of their collective delusion is not well understood, it would be ill-advised to attempt to disrupt it, but some part of me still insists that their rampant paranoia and mistrust may be no delusion at all. It may be nothing more than good old-fashioned fear.
8 November, 2013
When I first began to explore these streets, they seemed to me to be a world of crime with no punishment. I was wrong: this is a world of nothing but punishment. The men here never hesitate to strike out against those who they feel threaten them, and their actions are swift. Graffiti tags on buildings marking territory lines are signed in the dried blood of those who have trespassed. When it rains the gutters flood, and flow with bits and pieces that were discarded in haste. On 35th Street you can't look up without seeing corpses—or what's left of them—hanging from the telephone poles. No matter how far I get from this place, the smell still lingers on the horizon.
I recognized the face of one of those corpses from my research: Daniel Warren, age 24. Last year he was placed on administrative leave from the Milwaukee Police Department after providing false testimony regarding an officer-involved shooting. This year he's a decoration: a warning sign along the highway for all who pass through a town that doesn't exist.
Researcher's Note
Using personal details acquired through extended research, Dr. Brown was able to identify himself to several individuals affected by SCP-7289 as a fellow law enforcement officer, for the purpose of collecting further information, as documented in the following interview logs:
Interview Log 7289.01
Date: 15 November, 2013
SCP Number: SCP-7289
Interviewer: Dr. Lucretius Brown
Subject: Officer Anthony Baggio, Chicago Police Department
Officer Baggio: You were sent by command?
Dr. Brown: That's correct. I'm here to check in on your progress.
Officer Baggio: Well it's about damn time. I'm out here risking my ass and I don't get so much as a birthday card.
Dr. Brown: As I'm sure you understand, the nature of your cover requires discretion.
Officer Baggio: Yeah, yeah, I know–it comes with the job, right? Still, almost a month with no word from command and a guy starts to get worried.
Researcher's Note: Officer Baggio was last seen outside of SCP-7289 on 4 April, 2006.
Officer Baggio: Maybe a month and a half. You lose track of time doing this job.
Dr. Brown: Can you provide a summary of your activities during this time?
Officer Baggio: You haven't been getting my reports?
Researcher's Note: No reports have been identified.
Dr. Brown: It would be helpful to our understanding to review the details in person. What has been the main focus of your work so far?
Officer Baggio: Just trying to survive. Walking around these streets, it's a living nightmare. They're all out for blood. These guys around here are a different breed. I've had to patrol some bad corners in my time, but this…it's like they're not even human.
Dr. Brown: From what we understand you've taken some extreme measures to…survive.
Officer Baggio: That wasn't in my reports.
Dr. Brown: Word gets around.
Officer Baggio: It was me or him. It's that simple. If I hadn't done what I did, I wouldn't be sitting here talking to you. Maybe it's not by the book, but whoever wrote the book doesn't know shit about what goes on around here.
Dr. Brown: Is that why you mounted his head to a fencepost?
Officer Baggio: That was to send a message. Maybe you think it's harsh, but it's the only thing these animals understand. And don't believe for a second they wouldn't all do the same to you.
Interview Log 7289.02
Date: 22 November, 2015
SCP Number: SCP-7289
Interviewer: Dr. Lucretius Brown
Subject: Detective Darren Kennedy, Minneapolis Police Department
Dr. Brown: Can you tell me how long you've had this assignment?
Det. Kennedy: Isn't that kind of a stupid question?
Dr. Brown: Why is it stupid?
Det. Kennedy: A week, a month a year…it doesn't matter. Nothing changes. I could work this assignment for the rest of my life, enough evidence to sink the Titanic, and this world would still be going to hell.
Dr. Brown: Can you tell me about what you've been doing to stop it?
Det. Kennedy: That's a laugh. Sometimes I try to do my duty like a good little boy. Get in close to the ones at the top, document everything that goes on in this cesspit. Dot the i's and cross the t's. Because that's what the Captain wants, isn't it? That's what he thinks will help. Moron.
Dr. Brown: And what about the rest of the time?
Det. Kennedy: The rest of the time I'm just trying to put the fear of God into every son of a bitch out there. Doing whatever it takes.
Dr. Brown: You're not concerned about crossing a line?
Det. Kennedy: They cut off a man's head and mounted it to a fencepost. You don't worry about crossing a line when you're dealing with scum like that. You pray you get to be the one to cross it.
Dr. Brown: Do you find yourself crossing that line often?
Det. Kennedy: Do you see what it's like out there? Have you walked down those streets at night?
Dr. Brown: More than a few times.
Det. Kennedy: Then you know what has to be done. It's not just the violence. It's not just the anarchy. It's the fear. You can't drive around the corner for a carton of milk in this town without fearing for your life. That's the world these sick bastards have made. So who's going to clean it up?
Dr. Brown: You've been undercover here for quite a while. Do you feel like your actions have been worth it?
Det. Kennedy: Don't give me that shit. You should know as well as me, when you wear the badge it's not about what you get out of it at the end. It's about sacrifice.
Dr. Brown: It seems like you've started engaging in some pretty illicit activities during your time here.
Det. Kennedy: I make sacrifices. If you'd ever been undercover you'd know you do whatever it takes to get the job done. It's eat or be eaten.
Dr. Brown: According to our reports you took out about five soldiers from a rival gang last month alone.
Det. Kennedy: They were already going to Hell. I just sent them off a little early. Is that a crime?
Det. Kennedy: Don't give me that look. Life means nothing to these animals. Don't think for a minute that they wouldn't do the same to you. Or your wife. Or your kids. Is that what you want? Because I'm willing to do what I have to to make sure that's not a world you ever have to live in. Are you?
Dr. Brown: Do you have a wife? Children?
Det. Kennedy: Just the wife. Stacey. She always wanted kids but it never happened. Not yet.
Dr. Brown: So you're still trying?
Det. Kennedy: …I don't think so.
Dr. Brown: You don't want children?
Det. Kennedy: It's not about what I want. It's not happening.
Dr. Brown: Why isn't it happening?
Det. Kennedy: …I don't think I'm going back.
Dr. Brown: You don't want to go back?
Det. Kennedy: It's not about what I want. If I did…if I tried…I don't think I'd ever really be back. I don't think the man Stacey married is the man who'd be coming home. Hell, he might not even be the man who left. So I think I've got to stay.
Det. Kennedy: For all of them. Like I said, that's why we do what we do. They deserve better than this.
3 December, 2013
My survey of SCP-7289-A has yielded as much data as we're likely to find. It would be nice to have a why or a how at the end of this, but I'll settle for a plan to keep this place off the world's radar for good.
This is one project I'll be glad to never see again. The feeling I can't shake is that I've seen a place like this before.
When I was still languishing in the public school system, we had a way to deal with problem staff. We called them rubber rooms: a place for teachers who couldn't teach. Maybe they hit a student, maybe they drank on the job, maybe they just had some opinions they didn't know how to keep to themselves. It's hard to fire someone from a job like that, but easy to transfer them. So that's what they did: put them all in a classroom with 30 teachers and no students to do nothing for nine hours a day, five days a week. The Breakfast Club for delinquent pedagogues. But they still got a check. So they still showed up. Then again, no one ever got their head mounted to a fencepost.
