SCP-7901
rating: +16+x

Item#: 7901
Level3
Containment Class:
keter
Secondary Class:
none
Disruption Class:
vlam
Risk Class:
warning

Vienna_-_Vienna_Opera_main_auditorium_-_9825.jpg

Auditorium of SCP-7901 instance located in France. Picture was taken by research team during regular maintenance hours.

Special Containment Procedures: Research into a way of stopping the spread of SCP-7901 is still ongoing at the time of the creation of this document. MTF Iota-9 “Moliere’s Playwrights” are to survey the internet and news stations for reports of grand openings of SCP-7901 instances, as well as observing postal services for letters sent by instances. When an SCP-7901 instance is located, Iota-9 are to be sent to cordon off the area. Any surviving SCP-7901-1 subjects are to be interrogated and amnesticized following standard procedure.

Description: SCP-7901 is a Victorian-style theater company branded ‘Esuritio Theaters’ that is able to manifest instances of its theaters anomalously. The exact number of SCP-7901 instances is unknown, however, dozens of separate cases have been recorded as early as the 1910s, and no founder or company organization has ever been documented or retrieved as of yet. SCP-7901 instances are recorded as appearing in cities with a population of at least 10,000 as well as cities that are known to be prominent in entertainment and culture. The structure physically exists despite a lack of construction that would be required to create such a large building, despite this locals will report construction being done.

Several days after an SCP-7901 instance manifests a letter is sent out to a local theater or opera group, however, this is not always the case as there are reports of troupes being contacted from outside the vicinity of the city. From recorded cases, there seems to be a preference for lesser-known troupes.

SCP-7901-1 is an anomalous phenomenon that takes place at the completion of any performance within SCP-7901’s auditorium that has an audience of fifteen or greater. After the performance and subsequent emptying of the theater, a secondary crowd will enter, SCP-7901-1. This crowd will demand encores repeatedly, which the performer(s) will fulfill despite exhaustion until they either expire or faint. SCP-7901-1 will only dissipate once all performers have reached this point.

SCP-7901-2 appears as the staff of SCP-7901 instances, and can commonly be found present in the lobby, snack bar, and auditorium when not in use. SCP-7901-2 instances share common features such as eye color, as all appear to have black pupils and brown irises, and seemingly short or no hair as attempts to take off an SCP-7901-2 instance’s headwear have been resisted each time. SCP-7901-2 instances are not hostile unless provoked, where they will use their numbers to attempt to force the aggressor out of the theater.1 Foundation agents and research personnel are to avoid agitating SCP-7901-2 instances. SCP-7901-2 instances have been recorded coming from SCP-7901’s staff room, however, attempts to enter have failed. During an incident where SCP-7901-2 instances attempted to force Foundation agents out of the theater, several instances were terminated by gunshot wounds. Bodies reportedly rapidly decomposed into dust and were cleaned by an instance of SCP-7901-2 shortly after.

Addendum: The following is a recording of an interview done with Antony Stoyrim, an actor whose group of seventeen others was invited to an SCP-7901 instance in March of 2011 to reenact Romeo and Juliet. Mr. Stoyrim and his group came under the effect of SCP-7901-1 and continued performing for 70 hours. All seventeen members of the group died from causes linked to dehydration, starvation, and exhaustion until Mr. Stoyrim fainted. Antony was retrieved two hours later and brought in for interrogation after being cleared by medical crews.

Interviewed: Antony Stoyrim

Interviewer: Dr. Chester Fenwick

Foreword: After being cleared by on-site medical staff, Mr. Stoyrim was sent to the interrogation room in Wing C at Site-7. Dr. Fenwick was ordered to ask Mr. Stoyrim questions about his experience with SCP-7901-1.

<Begin Log, 1:38 AM EST.>

Stoyrim: Where am I? Who are you all? Are you the police? Why am I here? Where are my friends?!

Dr. Fenwick: Mr. Stoyrim, please, calm down. I’m here to ask you just a few questions about your… experience within the Esuritio Theater.

Stoyrim: No. No, no, no. I don’t want to talk about that place. You can’t make me talk about it!

Dr. Fenwick: Mr. Stoyrim, if you do not compose yourself, I will have the guards restrain you. Once I finish these questions, you may go back to the medical bay.

Stoyrim: [Long Pause] That place. It wasn’t right. There was something wrong with it as soon as we walked in. The people there- the staff- were acting so strange. They were dressed like… well, how you’d expect a person to be working at a place like that to dress like. They kinda looked like they were from the past, I guess. They spoke in a flat tone, even though they were always smiling. I couldn't even look at them too long because of how fucking creepy they looked. And their eyes… That was the worst part. All their eyes were the same color, just black. And they looked so empty. Like someone who just got back from a war… Fuck, I should've left when I had the chance.

Dr. Fenwick: I see. Did any of your friends notice it?

Stoyrim: Of course, they didn’t. They were too excited. I guess I couldn’t blame them. We weren’t really popular. Hell, we didn’t even have that much money to afford costumes. And here were these people, offering us a goddamn golden ticket to fame.

Dr. Fenwick: Could you tell me what conspired inside the auditorium that night?

Stoyrim: [Pause] We had a crowd come in. The first crowd of the night. It was maybe… I dunno, forty or fifty people. The largest audience we ever had. Everyone was ecstatic. We performed fucking fabulously. The crowd loved it, too. I almost cried. One of us did. Rebecca. Almost ruined her costume [Laughs]. Then, the crowd left and another came in and…

Dr. Fenwick: That’s when it started?

Stoyrim: [Pause] Yes. They came in a little bit after the last crowd. We couldn’t make out their faces at the time since the lights were dim. But something seemed wrong about them. We went back out on stage and performed again, and… and they seemed to like it. They gave us applause and all shouted for an encore. Of course, the others obliged then. When would we get another chance to do this? I didn’t want to but… something made me. It kind of felt like something was forcing my movements. Like I was some puppet.

Dr. Fenwick: When did your friends realize something was wrong?

Stoyrim: Probably when we finished the second performance, I think. The audience asked for another encore, and I could see that my friends they… well they were saying no and shaking their heads. But something happened and they stopped and we just started over again. I could see it in their eyes when we were doing the third performance. Despite their face, their eyes were filled with fear. Each time I looked at the crowd I began to notice something about them.

Dr. Fenwick: What was it?

Stoyrim: Their faces. They- They didn't have faces. No, no. That's, not the right way to put it. It's like… they did have faces they were just… smudged. Have you ever seen a smudge on a painting? That's what their faces looked like. It- It was hard to tell from how dark it was, but some of them looked like they had black slits for eyes and mouths like someone took a marker and just scribbled where the eyes and mouth should've been. And they got louder and more distorted every time we finished, asking- no, demanding another performance. When Henry, one of the actors playing Mercutio, passed out, they just laughed at him! They didn't even try to help! I wanted to, and I could tell the others wanted to as well, but we couldn't! It wouldn't let us! Whatever the fuck it was!

Dr. Fenwick: Mr. Stoyrim, please calm down. Take a moment to calm yourself, there’s a bottle of water right there.

[Stoyrim stops and takes approximately a minute to compose himself, the sound of plastic crinkling being heard briefly.]

Stoyrim: I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m alright. You just don’t understand what it was like. We played for hours, nonstop. I could feel my mind fading each time I heard the audience laugh as one of us dropped or demanded another encore. They didn’t even let us get another actor when one died. They just made us stand there for a moment whenever it was time for one of the collapsed actors to speak. By the end, it was just me fucking talking to myself. [Long pause] Do you know what it’s like to listen to the thuds of your friends drop, and have to walk over their bodies as some crowd of fucking Eldritch abominations laughed at us? They didn’t care. They just wanted entertainment. I know the entire goddamn script of Romeo and Juliet, word for word! Action by action! Movement by movement! They wouldn’t let us go until they were satisfied!

Dr. Fenwick: I understand, Mr. Stoyrim. We will try our best to help your friends. The guards outside will lead you back to the medical bay.

Stoyrim: Okay. I… thank you, doctor.

Dr. Fenwick: [Pause] Of course. No problem at all.

<End Log, 2:11 EST>

Closing Statement: Mr. Stoyrim was sent back to the on-site medical bay, where he resided for the next three days. On the fourth day, Mr. Stoyrim was administered Class-B amnestics and was sent back to his hometown with a coverup fabricated.

Addendum 2A: During a sweep of SCP-7901 on October 17th, 2018, an advertisement was found attached to a bulletin board inside the lobby. Further investigation into the meaning of the advertisement is ongoing, and the phone number in question was not registered.

Addendum 3A: On October 19th, 2019, Lead Researcher Jaswinder Vijaya did not report in at his workplace. Security officers were sent to Dr. Vijaya‘s office to find it empty, however, they found a note left on the desk. The note resembled Dr. Vijaya‘s handwriting and was signed by him. Security cameras showed Dr. Vijaya using his cell phone to contact an unidentified individual before covering the camera in his office.2 As to date, no trace of Dr. Vijaya has been found.

Life is bleak, isn’t it?

Even before I joined the Foundation, my life has been filled with a bleak darkness. I’m sure you all would know. You document everything about everyone who joins. Perhaps that is the problem. Perhaps we look into things and try to find answers to things that shouldn’t or shan’t be answered. I thought joining would bring me an opportunity. Perhaps a newfound light in my life. But, as I have often found, it only brought more despair and loss. When I was assigned to what you call SCP-7901, I believed it would only be an ordinary SCP. Something immensely powerful or unorthodox that wished to end all life or something along those lines. You know the story. Not even interesting.

However, the more I researched and looked into this anomaly, I realized it was calling to me. Literally and figuratively. I was right, yet wrong. Joining the Foundation wasn’t supposed to be my new future. It was just supposed to lead me to this, like a shepherd to a flock of sheep. I know you all will think I am dead, but I am in a better place now. A brighter, happier place. I hope to see you all there, sometime.

— Jaswinder Vijaya

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