rating: +140+x

TO: Vincent Bohart, Director, Site-333.

FROM: Zacharias Hanneman, Chair - Department of Zoological Studies, Site-58.

SUBJECT: Re:Found the back half — Reward?

Director Bohart,

I apologize for the delay in responding to your email. As my writing predominately concerns the file you included in your message, I have attached it in my response for ease of reference:

Item#: 7529
Containment Class:
Secondary Class:
Disruption Class:
Risk Class:


SCP-7529, left.

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7529 was initially confined within a kennel in Site-333's animal containment facility. However, due to Leonora Morales's concerns that the anomaly was distressing the variety of seabirds contained within the small space, as well as accompanying noise complaints from adjacent rooms, Director Bohart determined SCP-7529 should be given free rein of Site-333's upper floor — provided staff members kept it out of the Director's office.

Description: SCP-7529 is the back portion of a Maine Coon Somali American Wirehair cat, consisting of the rear ribcage, hind legs, and tail. The forward end of SCP-7529 terminates in a uniform and indistinct black surface. Visual examination has determined SCP-7529 to be female and properly spayed.

SCP-7529 is generally affectionate towards Site-333 personnel. While the entity displays no difficulty in supporting its present body using only its hind legs, it is notably clumsy and prone to knocking items over, bumping into people and objects, and walking off of or otherwise falling from elevated positions. Attempts to litter train SCP-7529 have thus far been unsuccessful.

After reviewing this document and the attached 'samples' you mailed to our Site, I can state with reasonable confidence that 'SCP-7529' is unrelated to SCP-529. I understand you were quite insistent upon a connection between these anomalies, so I have outlined my reasoning for this conclusion below:
  • DNA testing of the included fecal matter does not correspond to the genetic profile of SCP-529;
  • Due to SCP-529's current age, it has experienced a decline in mobility that does not correspond to your account of this entity;
  • The visual fur patterns on the cat depicted in your photograph do not match those of SCP-529, who possess gray tabby markings;
  • You have not included photographic evidence documenting the reported cross-section.

In fact, you have failed to demonstrate that this is not merely a cropped image of a whole, non-anomalous cat. Given these circumstances, as well as your repeated insistence on there being a 'Cash Prize' for finding the rear portion of SCP-529 — something which has never been stated nor offered, to the best of my knowledge — leads me to conclude you have not, in fact, found the rear portion of SCP-529. I believe that this is either some attempt at a prank or an effort to extort payment from the Foundation via issuing a false claim relating to an anomaly.

Either way, this has been a gross misuse of my time and the time of my team. I ask that you do not contact me, or anyone on my staff, regarding this again.


Zacharias Hanneman
Chair, Department of Zoological Studies, Site-58

TO: Zacharias Hanneman, Chair - Department of Zoological Studies, Site-58.

FROM: Vincent Bohart, Director, Site-333.

SUBJECT: Re:Re:Found the back half — Reward?


Now listen, buddy. I get that this may seem like a bit of a stretch to you, but I awz6e75 x8r6d9h8[i0]vidxhtfrycifu

Site-333 Surveillance Footage:

Director Vincent Bohart's Office

Vincent Bohart is seen sitting at his desk. A large iced coffee is placed beside his laptop. He withdraws a miniature Babybel cheese wheel from a plastic container on the desk labelled with Noah Patel's initials. He unwraps the cheese and tosses it in the air, intending on catching it in his mouth.

His laptop dings, indicating a received email. Vincent, startled by the noise, misaligns his mouth during the cheese's descent, causing it to lodge in his windpipe. He briefly chokes on the snack-sized cheese wheel, before managing to cough it up onto the floor.

Vincent lazily reads the email, scoffs audibly, and proceeds to begin typing a response.

The hindquarters of a calico cat are seen to jump up onto his desk and rush across his keyboard. SCP-7529 stumbles into the iced coffee, knocking it over onto the computer. The rear portion of the cat, startled by the noise and liquid, jumps towards Vincent, landing heavily on his lap. Vincent sighs deeply before petting near the base of its tail.

Vincent Bohart: Maybe you got a point there. We don't need them, do we? Tell you what: stick with me back-cat and we'll show them all.


Note: Anonymous Submissions Must Include Foundation Employee ID Number.

Complaintant: Leonora Morales, Wildlife Specialist.

Summary of Complaint: Vincent, you promised me that thing would stay out of the aviary. I don't care if it's only the back half, you try assessing if crows are anomalously good at math or just normally good at math while they're busy throwing the pencils at some fucked-up feline.

Honestly, their aim has been pretty impressive. Maybe I should put more ballistics on the curriculum instead of statistics.

Complaint Status: RESOLVED

Complaintant: Noah Patel, Cryptozoologist & Museum Curator.

Summary of Complaint: Hey Vincent, not sure if you read these things, but the cat got downstairs. I'm not really sure how it got over the baby gate you set up, but it was walking around the gift shop when I came in this morning. It scratched up the paper-mache, life-size Jersey Devil model I made too.

Anyway, if there were people visiting that could have been really bad. Although I suppose we could have passed it off as an animatronic or something.

There weren't any people visiting, if you were wondering. Which is also kind of bad. I've just been down here all day on my own. If you want to stop by and say hi you should!

Bring the cat even!

Complaint Status: RESOLVED

Complaintant: Tony Catalano, Accounting & Tourism.

Summary of Complaint: Look, if we can't send this cat-thing to Site-58 like we did with the goose for whatever reason, fine. But Jesus, Vincent, teach it to shit in a box. Like yeah, watching the hind legs wander about is kind of funny, but that humour dries up really quickly. Kind of like cat shit in a photocopier.

How do I know what happens to cat shit in a photocopier? Take a fucking guess.

Complaint Status: RESOLVED

TO: Vincent Bohart, Director, Site-333.

FROM: Ronald Durr, Site-19

SUBJECT: SCP-529 Transfer

Okay Vincent,

I've arranged for SCP-529 to be transferred to your site as part of a 'research initiative' for a week. I had to pull some strings to get that approved. People here don't like sending things to Site-333, they tend to come back broken — if they come back at all.

So we're square now, got it? Go figure out your weird cat problem and never bring up what happened in Vegas again.

Site-333 Surveillance Footage:

Employee Break Room

Leonora Morales enters the break room, carrying SCP-7529 in both arms. She walks toward Tony Catalano and Noah Patel, who sit at the folding table positioned opposite the fridge.

Leonora Morales: Look who I found trying to pick a fight with the three-winged seagull, again. I swear, Vincent doesn't even read the complaints unless they're about him. What's up with you guys?

Noah Patel: There's a half-cat.

Leonora Morales: Yeah, you just catching on?

Tony Catalano: He means a front-half-cat.

Leonora Morales: A what?

Tony and Noah gesture towards the kitchenette counter, where the front portion of a tabby cat — SCP-529 — is standing on its forelegs. SCP-529 looks up towards the individuals, a slice of cheese from a disassembled sandwich in its mouth. Upon seeing SCP-7529, it drops the cheese, arcs the visually present portion of its back, and hisses.

Noah Patel: How's it doing that? Raising its back on two legs?

Tony Catalano: You've literally watched a cat walk on two legs for the last week.

Leonora Morales: Why the hell are there two half-cats in the kitchen?!

Vincent Bohart enters, carrying a cup of coffee in one hand.

Vincent Bohatr: Ah, great. Glad to see everyone's already here. Figured getting you together would be like herding cats. Get it?

Leonora Morales: Vincent, why is there a second cat now? Was one not enough?

Vincent Bohart: It's the same cat.

Tony and Noah glance back and forth between the portion of the cat on the counter, and the one held by Leonora. In addition to differing in colouration, SCP-7529 is noticeably smaller proportionally.

Tony Catalano: Boss, that's absolutely not the same cat.

Vincent Bohart: Course it is.

Noah Patel: They look like they're different colours.

Vincent Bohart: Cats have all sorts of different patterns. I looked it up.

Leonora Morales: Not if it's one cat.

Vincent Bohart: Look, don't you all start in on this, okay? I know I'm onto something here. We found the back half of a cat, different site had the front half, it's gotta be the same cat.

Tony Catalano: Is this just because we all thought you ran over the cat when you brought it in?

Vincent Bohart: No.

Leonora Morales: We already apologized for that. You can't blame us, given that there's precedence.

Vincent Bohart: Oh for the love of — look. Do you know what the most important skill is for leadership? It's intuition. Not charisma, or communication, or organization, or whatever other lies they tell you. You got to trust your gut. If you can't, you can't trust anyone.

Vincent Bohart: And I — I trust my gut.

Tony Catalano: This the same gut that convinced you to eat the cheesesteak that had been sitting in the fridge for a month?

Leonora Morales: Vincent, whatever crisis you're having, it doesn't change the fact that this thing I'm holding is in no way the other half of that thing on the counter.

Vincent Bohart: Look, just give me that half, Leonora. Noah, go get the other one.

Leonora hesitantly passes SCP-7529 to Vincent while Noah moves to pick up SCP-529, who scratches him as he attempts to. After a subsequent try, Noah successfully lifts SCP-529 into the air.

Vincent Bohart: Now, we'll just turn them around so they're facing the right way, and you'll see it's all one cat.

Leonora Morales: Okay, am I the only one who can see this is absurd?

Tony Catalano: No, I get it as well. But to me honest I'm kind of curious. Hey Noah, need a hand?

Noah — who is struggling to avoid SCP-529's attempts to bite him — nods in acceptance; Tony walks over to hold the creature's legs in place.

Vincent Bohart: Alright, on three. One…

Noah Patel: Wait I thought we were counting down.

Vincent Bohart: Two.. Go!

Vicent steps forward, moving the hole-end of SCP-7529 to the hole-end of SCP-529. As he closes the space, both entities begin squirming. Noah and Tony attempt to hold SCP-529, who nearly escapes their grasp. An unseen force seems to hinder Vincent's attempts to unite the two entities.

Vincent Bohart: Almost got it! Come on you two! Push!

Noah and Tony lean towards Vincent, pushing their half-cat towards the one he holds. The space between them gradually narrows.

Leonora Morales: Holy shit, would you all stop!

As the distance between SCP-529 and SCP-7529 shrinks, small flashes of light emerge from their respective ends. As the three individuals push in unison, the half-cats move closer together until, suddenly, both halves touch. The flashes of light dim, revealing Tony, Noah, and Vincent holding a single cat: its front section that of an older tabby and its rear a smaller-looking calico.

Tony Catalano: Oh my god, we… we did it.

Vincent Bohart: I knew it! I fucking knew it! 'It's two cats, Vincent,' 'they won't fit together,' 'you haven't found the back half.' HA! I was right. I, Vincent-fucking-Bohart, was right! How does that sound, Atlantic City? You can try to break me, you can wear me down, you can make me pay extra for mustard, but I! Was! Righ—

A sudden flash of light, emerging from the connecting line between SCP-529 and SCP-7529, fills the room, blinding the security cameras that abruptly cut out.




Item#: SCP-(7)529
Containment Class:
Secondary Class:
Disruption Class:
Risk Class:


SCP-(7)529 pre-unification.

Special Containment Procedures: As per the Maksur classification, the individual components of SCP-(7)529 are to remain separated in distinct Foundation facilities. Currently, two components of SCP-(7)529 have been independently contained by the Foundation. However, a reasonable assumption suggests that upwards of 4 SCP-(7)529 components may exist at present.

Upon identification of an SCP-(7)529 component, relevant Foundation facilities are to notify O5 Command, who will ensure SCP-(7)529 remains ununified and contained within disparate, secure facilities.

Description: SCP-(7)529 denotes a collection of entities resembling either the front or rear portion of a domestic feline, terminating at the midsection, with a distinctive black, uniform surface covering the dividing area. SCP-(7)529 entities are behaviourally similar to non-anomalous equivalents and capable of a normal range of motion despite their physiology.

For unknown reasons, unifying two SCP-(7)529 entities into a singular form causes a sudden, violent disruption in localized space-time and consensus reality, triggering a KOT-Class Scenario. Associated phenomena include:

  • Mass die-offs of songbirds and rodents globally, resulting in severe ecological damage;
  • Breakdown of verbal communication through increasingly frequent and unintended annunciations of noises such as 'meow,' 'miau,' 'nya,' etc into spoken language;
  • Fluctuations in gravity causing the spontaneous reorientation of 'falling' objects in relation to an arbitrary central point — during a late-stage KOT-Class Scenario, this affects objects of greater mass, including celestial bodies, at an increasing frequency;
  • Destabilization of physical matter at a subatomic level, as neutrons and protons oscillate between positions within and exterior to atomic nuclei;
  • Additional, minor phenomena.

Additionally, a KOT-Class Scenario possesses B.A.G. Memetic Characteristics: an antimemetic property prevents recollection of the inciting event — the unification of SCP-(7)529 — Before Annihilation Genesis [B.A.G.] occurs.

The Foundation's Deepwell Archives indicate that SCP-(7)529 has triggered 8, previous KOT-Class Scenarios. Despite implied successful previous responses, at present, the SCP Foundation projects only a 65% confidence rate in its ability to avert, halt, or reverse an occurring KOT-Class Scenario: a high C+.

Site-333 Surveillance Footage:

Employee Break Room


Vincent Bohart: Alright, on three. One…

Noah Patel: Wait I thought we were counting down.

Leonora Morales: Wait! Wait! All of you stop! Look!

Tony Catalano, Noah Patel, and Vincent Bohart pause briefly. SCP-7529 wiggles out of Vincent's grasp, kicks off his chest, and runs under the table, bumping off the legs of several chairs as it does so. The three men turn to look towards the kitchen counter, where a small pile of sealed letters sit, propped up against the toaster.

Leonora Morales: Those weren't there before? Were they?

Tony passes SCP-529 to Noah, before walking over the the letters. He flips through the stack before handing them to Vincent.

Tony Catalano: They're all for you.

To whom it may concern,

This is an automated letter of notice relating to a recent temporal revision occurring at this locale.

The recipient of this letter has been determined to exist within a stable-consensus timeline. If additional actions are required — or additional non-actions are not required — to prevent the formation of a paradoxical timeline, you will be contacted in the near future or past by a representative of the Temporal Anomalies Department or another Foundation department.

Such a representative will not be another version of yourself. Should you encounter a version of yourself from the future or past, do not interact. Report such abnormalities to the Temporal Anomalies Department at your earliest convenience; our emergency telephone helpline is open 48/7.

Recipients of this letter are reminded to review present timekeeping devices, including analog, digital, and atomic clocks, to ensure consistency post-temporal revision.

Thank you for your time.
The Future Is What We Make It; The Past Is What We Made It!



This is a formal notice of coverage extended by the Provider, Goldbaker-Reinz Insurance Group Ltd to the Insured, the SCP Foundation.

As per our CLASS K EXTREME BLACK SWAN coverage plans, following temporal revisions instigated by the Insured, the Provider will undertake a formal audit to assess any residual property damage, loss of assets, and/or displacement of personnel due to space-time distortions. Upon affirmative identification of any damages, the Provider will assist in the restoration of relevant assets, through either financial or material contributions.

Due to anomalous influences associated with Nexus-36: Atlantic City, the temporal revision initiated by the Insured resulted in several temporal errors, which have been rectified by the Provided.

  • A non-comprehensive list of such adjustments include:
    • Correcting the branding and interior design of the Vaporwave Hotel & Casino to the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino;
    • Removal of Roman Legionaries from the Caesars Atlantic City Hotel & Casino;
    • Revocation of advertising material denoting Atlantic City as the 'Home of the Atlanty Cheesestake;'
    • Reorientation of the Steel Pier amusement park to face towards the water;
    • Rescinding the 10,000 free tickets distributed to see the Beetles playing live.

We are writing to you, Vincent Bohart — henceforth the Uninsured, as a result of your decision to terminate Site-333's insurance coverage with the Provider. While the Provider has no obligation to provide coverage to the Uninsured, the far-reaching effects of this scenario did satisfy conditions for coverage with the Insured. In consultation, both parties have agreed that the Uninsured is responsible for covering the deductible for this CLASS K EXTREME BLACK SWAN scenario. Details concerning payment amounts are attached. Remunerations are accepted in USD$, other legal tender, pieces of eight, and/or cuneiform tablets.

Goldbaker-Reinz Insurance Group Ltd.

Noah Patel: What is it, boss?

Vincent Bohart: Uh, it's just. Some kind of scam. You know the usual junk mail we get. One of you must have left it here.

Tony Catalano: Just give them back here, Vincent. Remember when you said the electric bill missed-payment notice was a scam?

Vincent Bohart: You know what, it's been a long day. How about we just put a pin in this whole-cat business? We'll try again later.

Leonora Morales: They're about the cats, aren't they?

Vincent Bohart: No they're not. What cats? Oh, the half-cats? Yeah, this is totally unrelated, but I got some important stuff to do. Back to work, you all.

Leonora Morales: You can just admit you're wrong.

Vincent Bohart: Why would I admit to being wrong about something I'm not wrong about?

Tony Catalano: Still got one more addressed to you.

Tony holds the remaining, folded letter in the air. It appears to be printed on thick, grey paper with a clean wax seal.

Tony Catalano: Jesus, this paper looks handmade. You can see the literal paper grain. Did they use an actual typewriter to print your name on it? No way someone did the spacing of these letters by hand. Noah, check this out. It's immaculate.

Vincent grabs the letter from Tony's hand before unfolding it to read.

Director Vincent Bohart of Site-333,

It would be well within our purview to admonish you for your recent deeds, driven as they were by your own hubristic ambitions.

Likewise, we could regale you with accounts, both anecdotal and apocryphal, of similar Icarian efforts and their results. You are not the first to fly boldly into forwarned dangers.

However, through this refusal to accept one's fate, great deeds are accomplished. Although you do not know, can not know, the extent of the efforts: the labour of mind and body that has been bent in a singular purpose — put faith in our account that the horror you set in motion has been resolved through significant sacrifice and resolve.

We could speak of these things and more. However, we decided that our best course of action is to be direct — very direct:

Do not put the cats together.

After reading, Vicent folds and pockets the letter. He walks to the table before kneeling to scoop up SCP-7529.

Vincent Bohart: Alright, back to work all of you. I'm not paying you to sit around. I'm going to keep this one in my office for a bit. For uh, further consideration.

Noah Patel: What about front-half-cat?

Vincent Bohart: Right, stick it in with the birds for now.

Leonora Morales: Vincent!

Vincent exits the room swiftly with SCP-7529 and proceeds down the hall to his office.

Vincent Bohart: If you don't like it, file a complaint!

Leonora follows after Vincent, trying to catch up to him. Vincent adjusts SCP-7529 in his grip and picks up his pace.

Leonora Morales: You're not getting rid of this that easily. What is going on, Vincent? What did the letter say?

Vincent Bohart: Nothing! They put everything back to normal!

Leonora Morales: Who put everything back to normal — what does that even mean?

Vincent Bohart reaches his office door and moves to open it with his free hand. As he approaches, SCP-7529 begins to squirm fiercely, trying to free itself from his grasp.

Vincent Bohart: It doesn't matter! You can all calm down, everything is fine!

Vincent opens his office door. As he does so, a clowder of front and rear feline entities, bearing the same anomalous characteristics of SCP-7529 and SCP-529, are revealed within. Several of them appear to be fighting on the carpet, while others sun themselves against the window. A single front portion of a Siamese cat stands on his desk; it pauses coughing up a furball to turn and face Vincent, before returning to hacking up a wad of fur. A small group rushes past Vincent into the hallway, with the rear portion of a hairless Sphynx cat colliding with his leg. Vincent jumps backwards, allowing SCP-7529 to break free of his grasp and begin chasing after the fleeing half-cats.

Vincent Bohart: [Sighs] I hate Mondays.

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