rating: +177+x

by PlaguePJP

Item#: 7593
Containment Class:
Secondary Class:
Disruption Class:
Risk Class:


Site-666, Las Vegas, Nevada.

Special Containment Procedures: Due to the nature of SCP-7593, containment efforts are focused on the location of Randall House and returning him to a living state. Investigations are underway throughout the hierarchy of Site-666 to uncover the actor(s) behind SCP-7593 and enforce containment procedures where necessary.

Description: SCP-7593 was a random, anomalous event culminating in the death of Site-666 director Randall House. House’s corpse was discovered on December 22, 2005, in his office, under a pile of smoking rubble that fell from the ceiling. The corpse was mangled to a point of it being near unrecognizable. On a tattered part of House short was a partial, artificial burn, reading “Proverbs 29:20.”1

While there were no witnesses to the event, it is hypothesized that an unknown, divine entity smote House. The Department of Tactical Theology is working in conjunction with Site-666 to uncover if a deity or deities were at fault.

Interviews with Tartarean entities have yielded no conclusive information, as the entities either were averse to discussions on the subject, or stated their pleasure in the fact House was deceased. While initial suspicion pointed towards Tartarean entities being at fault for SCP-7593, further discussions found that entities were content with the agreement between the Foundation and Undervegas; dissent was rare past mild dissatisfaction.

The investigation is ongoing.

Addendum 7593.1: Site Wide Meeting



Sterling: Alright, I’ll just cut to it. House is dead. The ceiling collapsed and he was crushed.

Thorner: The fuck?

Sterling: The ceiling collapsed and he was crushed. I know this comes as a shock, however, we’re starting an immediate investigation because there’s no way this was just random bad luck. Someone branded a bible verse on him post-mortem.

Adams: What did it say?

Sterling: Something about how people who talk a lot are fools. As far as I know, Randall didn’t talk to God, and even then, He should be able to tolerate the ramblings of House for an eternity longer than we can. We’re going to need all hands on deck for the next few days.

Thorner: Is he…? You know.

Sterling: What?

Thorner: Is he in Hell?

Adams: Christ, Tess. Some tact maybe?

Sterling: We don’t know yet.

(A large plume of smoke erupts in front of Thorner. As it clears, a stubby humanoid reveals itself, holding a tattered cotton bag. It’s nude, save for a damp, leather loincloth wrapped around its waist. Site staff recognizes the entity as Charon, the psychopomp.)

Sterling: What the fuck, Charon! How many times do I have to tell you to use the fucking door?


Charon, as depicted by Michaelangelo.

Charon: Okay, whatever dude. I got my yearly lunch break and I’m here to mangia.

(Charon looks around the room.)

Charon: What’s going on? You guys look like someone just died.

Sterling: Randall did.

Charon: Oh. Oh. Oh Shit. My bad.

Sterling: What? What did you do?

Charon: Yeah, the other day some dude kept yelling at me to look at him. Kept saying that ‘I know him’ and to ‘bring him back now.’ I recognized his face but I couldn’t place it. Well, now I know. Funny how things work out like that.

Sterling: He’s—

(Charon lifts a writhing fish out of its bag and gingerly places it in his mouth, immediately swallowing it whole.)

Sterling: He’s in Hell?

Charon: Yeah.

(Charon reaches for another fish, eating it the same way as before.)

Charon: I’ll get more info and give you the deets. I have my money down on the sixth circle, maybe the seventh.

(Charon reaches into his bag once more.)

Sterling: If I see another goddamn fish I’m gonna lose my mind. I’m sorry; I can’t watch it anymore.

Charon: Okay, xenophobe. Learn to respect other cultures.

Sterling: You know what? Leave. You’re not allowed to take your lunch breaks here anymore. Blacklisted. If I see you again it’s a containment chamber.

Charon: No, no, no, no, wait. Come on, man. We’re friends. We’re Alice and Charon. Best buddies! Look, you know I head security down there. I’ll hook you up with a monitor to watch House and we’ll call it square. Deal?

Adams: Hell has surveillance. Doesn’t, like, God do that?

Charon: That lazy bastard is more of a delegator than anything. I have to make sure no one escapes on top of my ferryman duties. It’s tiring as… as Hell. Let me just go get the stuff.

(Charon disappears with another plume of smoke.)

Sterling: I’m very sorry about that. If you need to speak with someone about this incident, Dr. Mooney from 322 is visiting and is open for walk-ins. In the meantime, I’m acting as interim director. You’ll be assigned—

(Suddenly, a plume of smoke appears. As it clears, Charon reveals itself holding a mass of fire in the shape of a computer monitor.)

Charon: I heard he was crushed by rocks. Sometimes in Hell, we get movies delivered down there. I heard it was like that scene in Midsommar with the guy and the cliff and the hammer. Like one of those hydraulic press videos. Like a watermelon crushed between the supple thighs of a large woman.

(A few members of Site staff begin to cry.)

Charon: Tough crowd.

Sterling: (Sigh.) Is that the surveillance system?

Charon: Top of the line. 4k video, 440 Hz, 32 gigs of RAM. There are a lot of dead LAN gaming people in hell and they gave me the best specs for performance. This thing’s a beast.

Sterling: Thank you. Here’s the problem, though. I know demons can get carried away and put people in flaming pits for like seventy years. If that happens to House, are we just supposed to watch that?

Charon: Yeah, for punishments like that it’s not actually fifty years, much less time when you’re watching it, the sinner just perceives it as however many years the demon decides. I can’t remember the bullshit conversion right now but I’m pretty sure one year is like half a minute. House is still passed out right now and as far as I know, he’s in limbo for whatever reason. He should get his buddy soon.

Sterling: Alright. Is that all?

Charon: I brought you guys these as another show of remorse. I have to go. Thanks! See you next year!

(Charon drops its bag on the ground and vanishes in a puff of smoke. The bag contained thirty squirming fish of an unknown species.)


The monitor Charon provided did not emit extreme heat nor did it require electricity to operate. After powering it on, the monitor opened to a directory of over 117,000,000,000 names. House’s name was located utilizing the search function and the surveillance video of him was played.

Addendum 7593.2: Day One Transcript



(The feed has a night vision filter on. House is lying on a ragged cavern floor. It’s extremely dark in the cave, save for small beams of light peaking through small cracks in the cave wall. The sound of moaning and water dripping is heard.)

House: Huh.

(House takes a deep breath. And coughs)

House: Wuh. Oh. Oh, come on!

(House stands and glances around.)

House: Satan! Lucifer! The Devil! Whatever the fuck you want to be called today, you already trapped me in Hell last month! The joke was funny the first eight times. It’s enough now!

(No response.)

House: Hey! Dickhead! Don’t bitch out on me now. I know what you’re doing. Limbo this time? Really? At least make me suffer pain instead of boredom. You know I’m unmedicated!

(House paces through a small section of the cave, mumbling obscenities about Satan to himself.)

(A large wall of fire suddenly appears, loudly roaring. House recoils from the heat and light. The flame expells and a small, red, bat-like humanoid appears in front of House.)

Demon: Hello Mr. House, and welcome to Hell! The Worst Place Ever™! I am the right dishonorable creature of malice and hate, Clydesdale!

House: […] Clydesdale?

(House begins to laugh. He immediately explodes, slowly reforming back into himself for thirty years. Clydesdale observes the entire time.)

Clydesdale: Is it funny now?

House: I was conscious that whole time!

Clydesdale: Was that funny?

House: Enough! It’s enough. Tell your daddy that the joke is over and I need to make sure the degenerate partiers of his army are good boys and girls.

Clydesdale: Joke? I don’t see a joke here, Mr. House. You are dead. Dead like a corpse or a cadaver. Dead like a lobster dropped in a pot of boiling water. Dead like a dead guy. You died! We know all the sins and dastardly little deeds you committed throughout your meager life. Sinner sin sin sinner sin sin. EVIL BOY! RAT!

(Clydesdale stabs House in the thigh with its horn.)

House: Ow! What the fuck, man?

Clydesdale: Sinner!

House: How did I even die?

Clydesdale: Big rock fall on little head.

(Clydesdale makes a wet, squelching sound with its mouth.)

House: I was crushed by rocks?

Clydesdale: Yeah, was that not clear by the sound effect?

House: No, it was. Just wanted to clarify. I had so much more to do though! I wanted to become an Overseer, I wanted to get married, I never saw X-Men three, I never got to go to the red light district! I got rid of the D-Class program. First site! They were bad guys! I did good things.

(House appears to be suffering from a panic attack)

Clydesdale: I’ll just let you have this one.

House: Let me out, man. Come on! I shouldn’t be in Hell! I was good. I did what I needed to do. You guys are literally the pinnacle of evil and I did everything to make sure you stayed where you are. That makes me good right? Working in opposition to evil. I’m a hero! I didn’t kill anyone either!

Clydesdale: Don’t care. I’m so happy I get to be your Hell Buddy™! You can tell me the true meaning of Christmas.

House: — I never finished that file on the Daeva. I got two 001 proposals out. Two! Today that’s like having none! Some jackass has four and is working on a fifth! I have so much I needed to do — What? Why would I ever tell you that?

Clydesdale: Because we’re going to be buddies for literally ever! Might as well tell me… now! Ooooooooh… now! Now!

House: Just send me to my circle and let me suffer. I’m not doing this.

Clydesdale: Don’t you love Christmas?

House: Not particularly. Do you?

Clydesdale: No, I’m a hell demon, why would I love Christmas? A lot of you humans just seemed to really enjoy it.

House: It never really did anything for me. I grew up Muslim.

Clydesdale: Oh.

(House is immediately transported into what appears to be a flaming tomb, congruent to what is depicted in the Sixth Circle of Hell of Dante’s Inferno.)


Addendum 7593.3: Site-666 Research

After the above transcript was documented, a full investigation into House and SCP-7593 began. Personnel was split into four teams:

  • The Apostles; the aforementioned group working with the Department of Tactical Theology;
  • The Watch Party, focused on watching, transcribing, and analyzing the tapes from Charon;
  • The Virgins,2 focused on a method of entering Hell and extracting House;
  • The Carolers, which focused on creating an artificial model that would produce the most likely answer to the question 'What is the true meaning of Christmas?'

Sterling, with the assistance of Maria Jones, ran a full download of House’s personal and professional devices, eventually locating encrypted information regarding the true meaning of Christmas on his cell phone. During the weeks prior to his death, Director House had a running, apparently inside joke with himself, where he would ask people what they believed the true meaning of Christmas to be. Site personnel were unable to solve the question, which only increased House’s enjoyment of the “joke.” House would continue to mention that no one would “get the answer” and “it’s absolutely baffling that it works out.”

The current hypotheses were that House had either made up that he knew the answer or was using a form of inductive reasoning to connect an element of his personality to the yuletide holiday. With Site-7's personnel database providing an expansive report on Randall House's personality, FIGGY-PUDDING.aic was created and fed House’s data. Below is a truncated list of its findings utilizing House's likes and dislikes.

Answer Association Variable to the Potential Meaning of Christmas3
Women 56.7%
Mafia dramas 34.2%
Growing a beard 20.1%
An honest day's work 1.5%
Star Wars: Knights of the New Republic 49.8%
Working in conjunction with Site-43's Dr. Harry R. Blank 0.2%
Talking 60.4%
Pictures of large boats 54.6%
Photoshopping pictures of deer 64.1%
People in general 0.1%
Goth Women 78.9%

Caroler team research is ongoing.

Addendum 7593.4: Day Two Transcript



(Camera shows overhead view of the burning coffin. Five years pass until Clydesdale scurries toward House’s coffin. It leans towards the lid, a smile growing on its face as it listens to House’s screams.)

(Suddenly, House is laying in the fetal position on a black sandbank. His skin is charred and smoking. In front of him, a large river of blood boils. House continues to whimper.)

Clydesdale: Hello again Mr. House! You smell scrumptious.

(House does not respond, only whimpering and crying.)

Clydesdale: Okay. I see you may have been driven insane. That happens! I forget how weak and feeble and meager your little human soul-brain is. I’ll make you a deal, if I fix you you’ll tell me the true meaning of Christmas. Lay there and cry if you agree.

(House continues crying.)

Clydesdale: Yay! I love quid pro quos.

(Clydesdale snaps, and House is immediately healed and ceases his crying.)

House: You— you can just cure someone being driven insane?

Clydesdale: Yeah.

House: Why would you have that power? What reason in the universe does that need to be a thing you can do?

Clydesdale: So I can do this!

(House is transported back into the coffin for another five years.)

(House is once again returned to the black sand embankment. Clydesdale snaps once more, and House returns to his normal state, albeit with slight behavioral differences.)

Clydesdale: Mr. House, can you tell me the true meaning of Christmas, now? Pretty please. Pretty please with a cherry on top.

(Clydesdale glares at House. Its eyes glow red.)

Clydesdale: Pretty please… with a — what the fuck — woman with a robotic arm on top? What the fuck, Randy? Amputees?

House: Shut up!

Clydesdale: I thought that would work. You weirdo.

House: I’m not telling you the true meaning of Christmas. It took me way too much time to find it and I’m not giving it up. Stop asking me!

Clydesdale: Okay, bitch. Damn.

(Clydesdale goes quiet.)

House: What? Are you upset now?

Clydesdale: Can you at least give me a hint?

House: No.

Clydesdale: Maybe you need some persuading. You see Mr. House, this is the sixth circle of Hell: Violence. Ooooooooh, scary! Your little organization commits atrocities and you reap the rewards, you naughty boy. This is where all you and your coworkers go, no matter how good or how bad. Except for that one guy with some tacky necklace. He got sent to the lust circle real fast. But other than him! This is where you will stay for eternity.

House: Okay?

Clydesdale: I’m willing to make another deal. I will not throw you into that boiling pool of blood and grossness if you tell him the true meaning of Christmas.

House: Who?

(From the river of blood, a human form rises and crawls onto the sand. Clydesdale blows on the form, removing all of the blood and revealing it to be House’s grandfather, Rustin House.)

House: Oh God, that’s fucked up.

House: It’s too cold… put me back. I want to go back in.

Clydesdale: Mr. House.

House: What?

House: What?

Clydesdale: No, newer House. Tell your grandfather the true meaning of Christmas or I will poach you like an egg in that blood.

House: I’m not telling you or him shit. I was a pacifist as much as I could be; you can’t put me in here. I prayed like twice in my life. I never killed anyone directly.

House: I killed so many people. I once put one of those D-Men in a big machine and turned it on then he died. I knew he would too! One time we went into a city and killed everyone with harpoon guns because they saw a big fish in the sky and we didn’t want anyone knowing about the big fish. It was a cod. I set people on fire!

Clydesdale: Mr. House—

House: Yeah?

Clydesdale: Fuck. The other one.

House: Once there was this statue and we put those D-Guys in there they shined a big bright light at them so they would close their eyes. They all died. It was fast, I promise. Oh. Did you say something, ma’am?

Clydesdale: Mr. Older House, do you have any idea about the true meaning of Christmas?

House: Oh Christmas. One time, it was Christmas Day I’ll never forget, we gave the D-People some turkey and mashed potatoes and peas and… uh… turkey but we laced it with a chemical we were testing out to make people forget stuff and they all died too. It wasn’t fast that time.

House: I haven’t done nearly the amount of awful things he’s done.

Clydesdale: Whatever, fuck this! Your bloodline always sucked. How did anyone listen to your orders? You're pissing me off.

House: Tell that to literally everyone who ever spoke to me. Especially the Alchemy Department. That brigade and their cronies really don’t like me.

Clydesdale: You know what, you cocky bastard. No more Mister Kinda Nice Guy.


Addendum 7593.5: Day Three Transcript



(House’s limbs are chained to a ragged rock wall. Two muscular demons are beating House’s arms and legs with large obsidian mallets. When the damage to House’s limbs becomes significant enough, they are instantly healed so the beating may repeat.)

(A cacophony of screaming children is audible. In front of House is a group of demons appearing as the silhouettes of House’s family, deceased relatives, friends, colleagues, and favorite actors. All of them are tearfully pleading for House to reveal the true meaning of Christmas.)

(House screams.)

Clydesdale: Tell us! Tell us now! Tell us the true meaning of Christmas! I want to be merry and bright this instant, Randy. Don’t fucking test me. You’ve tested me all day and now you’re getting tenderized! You’re nothing! You’re a worthless subhuman mole! I should tell the primordial cells that evolved into your ragged, meek, insignificant form to stay put because this is what they’d become. Tell me! Tell me the true meaning of Christmas! Rat!

(House is healed.)

House: You know, if you guys were women I’d be having a much different reaction to this.

(The beating continues. House begins screaming.)

[Eight hours of video omitted]

(There’s a sudden explosion in front of House, followed immediately by silence. As the smoke clears, Satan reveals itself. The demons kneel.)

(The entity is a massive, hulking humanoid; at least 60 meters in height. It has black and gray fur coating its body. Two large, tattered, leather wings extend from its back. Lucifer's head has three faces, one red, one yellow, and one black. In the mouth of each face are three pale, naked men — Cain, Judas, and Brutus — all of whom are screaming.)

House: Oh shit.

Clydesdale: Your most dastardliness. Sinner of all sinners. Master of Hell and Destroyer of God, Jesus, The Holy Spirit, and all things holy. First of his name. King of the Rhoynar and the First Men. The evil of all evil. Your murderousness. Sir, I am at your service.

(Satan spits the body of Cain into an empty palm.)

Satan: I heard we were having some trouble with a sinner.

Clydesdale: Yes, sir. This is Randall House.

House: Wait, Cain?

Cain: Oh hey, Dr. House, what's up?

House: Didn't we contain you like twenty years ago?

Cain: I got a reduced sentence. I have to do weekends here now.

House: Fair enough. Judas. Thirty pieces of silver if you tell these scumfuckers that I’m not telling them the true meaning of Christmas in a language they can understand. Apparently, I’m not speaking English.

Judas: Fuck you.

(Lucifer launches Cain at the cave wall. Its body splatters. The entity places its head close to House.)

Satan: I thought we had a relationship built on mutual respect, you and I.

House: Anyone ever tell you you sound like Kratos? Can you call me boy for me real quick.

Satan: You dare compare me to a minor god?

House: I meant from the video game—

(Satan punches the rock wall above House, embedding its fist in the stone.)

Satan: I spent my time out of the ice — time I get once every ten thousand years — dealing with you.

House: You’re a lucky guy then.

Satan: Tell us the true meaning of Christmas and this torture will cease.

House: So what, I tell you, you stop torturing me for an hour, maybe two, tops, and then I'm back where I started. Doesn't seem too fair to me. How about this? You’re a man who's always open to deals, right?

(Satan doesn’t respond.)

House: I know you are. Not getting tortured isn’t enough, Lucy, I need something better. Come on. Come on, Lucy. Be a pal.

Satan: Like what?

House: Seems like your entire army, including you, wants to know this little secret I have. I’m not giving it up unless you give me a do-over on life. That dingus over there set me on fire and exploded me for sixty years, and still not a peep. My lips are sealed.

Clydesdale: He’s a sick fuck.

Judas: Real hardass this one.

Brutus: I know right?

Satan: Fine. I’ll take your deal.

(Satan grips House and rips him and his chains out of the wall, holding him close to its eyes.)

Satan: But listen here, boy.

House: Hah! He said it. You really do sound just like him.

Satan: If you trick me, you’re coming to the ice. And you won’t get the luxury of being thawed out. Ever.

(House is placed down. His injuries are instantly healed and he stands up.)

House: The true meaning of Christmas. Don’t ask me how I figured this out, but, you know when you [DATA EXPUNGED], more specifically when you [DATA EXPUNGED].

Satan: […] Yeah?

House: That feeling right before. If you look at the brain on Christmas day and [DATA EXPUNGED], the parts that flare up are exactly the same. That’s the true meaning of Christmas, the feeling right before [DATA EXPUNGED].

Satan: Eeeeeeew. Eeeeeeew, that's so yucky. No way. No way that's real. Why that of all things. Augh. You're fucking with me. (It laughs.) You have to be.

House: I have literally no reason to be fucking with you.

Judas: That's disgraceful.

Satan: I know right? It's so good. Only if it was real.

House: I’m not joking.

Satan: Nah, no way. I don't believe you. You're a little trickster sprite.

House: I swear to you and God. That’s the true meaning of Christmas.

(Clydesdale floats over to House. It stares at him, eyes glowing red.)

Clydesdale: It's real! He's telling the truth! That's the true meaning of Christmas!

(The crowd of demons uproariously laugh and cheer. Many of them high five and hug.)

Satan: Alright! Yeah! Woo hoo! That’s another point on the board for us. Go Hell!

(Satan turns to the cheering crowd.)

Satan: Can I get a hell yes!?

(The crowd chant “Hell Yes” back at Satan.)

House: Can I go now?

Satan: Yes. Thank you, boy. That made my millennia.


Following this, the surveillance system showed a 404: Not Found error. There was a sudden explosion in House’s office. A security team raced to the office, finding it entirely engulfed in flames. Utilizing extinguishers, the fire was snuffed. House was then heard screaming under a pile of rubble in his office, demanding that he be removed from the pile so that he could see a doctor, a therapist, and a priest as soon as possible.

House was sedated and placed in Site-666’s infirmary for observation. All apparent physical, mental, and emotional injuries had healed upon House's return to the mortal world.

Addendum 7593.6: Final Incident

On December 25, 2005, a box wrapped in red and white wrapping paper manifested in House's office. The box had a thin layer of frost along the top of it. House opened the gift, finding three kilograms of solid gold, a six-pack of beer, an all-expenses paid trip to Amsterdam for four, and a photograph of him and his grandfather. Taped to the bottom of the box was a letter written to House. It read as follows:

Dear Mr. Randall House,

I am very sorry for the trouble you dealt with over the past few days. I hope these gifts are worth a smidgen of the pain and suffering that you went through. Please know that Satan is at the top of my naughty list again and will remain there. I don't know why I thought he changed. I am so sorry Mr. House. I humbly ask you not to tell anyone else about the thing. I'm gross and I know.

- Santa

House refuses to decrypt the file on his findings regarding the true meaning of Christmas. By joint agreement of the O5 Council and the Ethics Committee, House has been allowed to keep the true meaning of Christmas a secret.

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