I'm embraced by this shivering iron coffin.
loading welcome message…
Welcome Back, Dr. Talum
For your own personal use and studies during your stay at Site-39 you've been granted access to a digital notepad. Please use it however you wish.
loading file 8274.scp…
Special Containment Procedures:
A constant perimeter of no less than 50 personnel must be kept surrounding the entrance to SCP-8274. All mining operations within 70 km of the site are to be shut down with the explanation that the terrain is unstable.
Attending staff must follow a monthly schedule referred to as the Ecdysis Timeline. Testing must be carried out during an Ecdysis sanctioned excursion into SCP-8274. New staff will be briefed personally on the details of the Ecdysis Timeline.
Description: SCP-8274-B is a physically impossible cavernous structure located at Site-39.1 Beneath the entrance stretches approximately 84 kilometers of winding and interconnected pyroducts which exhibit signs of spatial distortion. Their layout would imply that several tunnels overlap and occupy the same physical space as each other, while others should extrude from the mountain face, but do not. Following a certain path through these tunnels leads to a hollowed shaft referred to as ‘the elevator’ by attending staff. At the bottom of the shaft lies a semi-spherical basin measuring approximately 5 km in diameter. The hollowed sides of the basin feature a large etched mural. The bulk of the mural is made up of unknown scripts. Through analysis these scripts have been determined to be made up of four different unknown languages. Two of the present languages have been found in excerpts at other archaeological sites. All of these excerpts have been extracted from their sites for research and study. Attempts to decipher the text are being led by warehouse.aic with the aid of the head linguist at Site-39. Alongside the text are many images, several of which have been identified as depictions of known SCP anomalies and PoIs.
Attempts to record images of the basin result in the present equipment breaking and becoming unusable before any footage can be captured. For this reason, computer analysis of the text must be conducted on recreations drawn by attending staff. Due to the size of the basin, this is being done incrementally.
THE REMAINDER OF THE DESCRIPTION HAS BEEN CLASSIFIED BY ORDER OF THE O5 COUNCIL
Staff Personal Notepad:
Dr. James Talum
Journal Entry #1: I was just issued a reassignment to Site-39. They moved me here from Site-98 and told me to bring the first semi-functional prototype of the Æ Suit with me. My goodbyes to the development team were painfully short lived.
It also turns out that I'll be at Site-39 indefinitely. I was told that it's part of some team building experiment. It's kind of a bummer being separated all the way out here far away from everyone that I knew. I'll just pour myself into books again like I always have. I’m starting a journal in this digital notepad they gave me. The thing doesn't even have wireless connectivity, but it's a good way to keep my mind busy, and I figure I should use it for more than just research notes.
Journal Entry #3: I met with the rest of the research team. The first to greet me was a Dr. Bron. He’s a specialist in non-euclidean geometry. His study and mine have some overlap. He tends to joke a lot and honestly it’s helped with my initial jitters. Dr. Keller also stood out; she studied linguistics but somehow always trips over her wording. The team lead is Doctor Morgan. I can’t say I dislike him but he doesn’t seem very personable. He wouldn’t divulge what he specializes in when I asked. There are a few others, but I didn't really connect with them as much.
I still miss my last team. I used to spend every night hopped up on too much caffeine, troubleshooting with Dr. Spencers or reading Joel's engineering textbooks. I don't know why, but even that sounds nice in retrospect.
Journal Entry #7: This site is profoundly foreboding in its construction. I remember the bleak but warm grey of concrete at Site-19’s many facilities, and I am all too familiar with the starch white of Site-98’s laboratories. I used to hate that bright white all the time, but now it sounds inviting. Site-39 is much colder. The corridors are characterized by expansive thick metal plating and sparse circular windows all identical to each other. It feels more like an endless submarine than a building. My bedroom is no different: blank gunmetal-black walls with one lone window no larger than 20 cm across.
In other news, my first expedition is today! The sheer layers of procedure are exhausting. We carry bags upon bags of dehydrated food and almost every piece of caving equipment you could name on the crawler. I understand the precautions though. There's always a different atmosphere when you're working with a Keter, like any misstep could send you off the cliff. They had me explaining the basic functionality of the Æ suit to Doctor Morgan, but I don’t think he really understood. I've gotten so used to the jargon from the suit’s development team (mostly Joel) that I probably sounded like an alien to him.
I've been having some trouble sleeping. When I can't stay down I find myself looking out the tiny window in my room: my little porthole in this metaphorical submarine. I can't see much except the vague white of a snowy expanse. They never told us where the site is. All I can gather is that it's somewhere cold.
Journal Entry #33: We have another expedition today. Spirits were surprisingly high among the team despite some new security measures. Apparently there has been suspected movement of a dangerous GoI in the area, so they're locking down the site even more.
Journal Entry #37: Another sleepless night. I’ve been up reading- or at least I was. I overheard something strange from the corridors. Two voices I didn’t recognize. They said something along the lines of “synchronization is at 43%, continue to monitor." It’s strange; that doesn’t sound like any of the measurements we’ve been making. I was pretty sure I’d met everyone on-site by now. I’m going to follow whoever is out there.
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I followed them in the darkness for what felt like hours around a maze of indistinguishable corridors. They finally stopped and went into a keycard secured room where I couldn’t follow. I didn’t bring any kind of light source either so I had to use the dim light of the notepad’s display to find my way back. Looks like this was just a huge waste of time.
Journal Entry #40: Just when I started to forget about that night I've been brought back to it. I was making the rounds idly today and found that the door those two went into isn't there. It's been replaced by a blank wall. At first I thought that I was forgetting where it was but my memory isn't that unreliable. More than that when I got back to my room the door panel has an access log dated at 13:24 when I was at lunch.
Journal Entry #43 We’re supposed to have another expedition. It's nothing related to the basin. They have us charting the unexplored sections of the tunnels. The crawler is moving slightly differently; it’s lurching less than usual. While I was helping transfer materials I got a closer look. There's a large seam in the metal underside that looks openable. It might just be how it's assembled, but now that we’re back on the inside I noticed something else. This inside space doesn’t take up what should be the full depth of the crawler, it’s too shallow. There must be something beneath the floor, some kind of storage compartment. I wasn’t told about it.
Journal Entry #49: Something’s going on. There’s a small scar on my thigh that I didn’t use to have. I asked Dr. Morgan about it but he just waved off the scar saying that I ‘might’ve tripped’. That doesn't really add up. Is he lying? I'm just so tired. I couldn't sleep because of a really bad headache so I figured I'd stay up and see if I could hear those two mystery figures again but there was nothing. Almost as if to taunt me, Doctor Morgan issued a statement reminding us to "pursue proper sleeping practices" to improve mental health. Before I might've chalked it up to people seeming tired in their therapy sessions but I don't trust it.
Journal Entry #53: I talked to Keller today; she said I seemed more distant lately. Can I risk telling her? Whatever management is doing, I doubt they'd let my snooping go without consequence. This whole arrangement is beginning to reek. To top it off, I’m still getting lost taking wrong turns. All of the identical walls have blended together. I feel like I’ve lost my sense of direction being here for so long. No matter what Keller says, it’s still lonely.
I’ve been experimenting in my room. I fashioned a makeshift screwdriver out of a shaved down piece of my metal desk. I already sliced my hand open on it the first time I tried to use it, but I managed to unscrew an access panel in the wall. Thanks for the electrical engineering textbook, Joel. I’m gonna see if they have cameras set up.
Journal Entry #54: I’m not sure if I was right or not. I see cables that look like they could carry a video signal, but even after tearing apart my room I couldn’t find any cameras. That just means they’ve hidden them much better than I anticipated.
I woke up and found a bloody bandage on the side of my torso. I took it off and there's a really nasty cut here. It's too clean to be an accident and I don't remember getting it. In fact, I don't remember anything after the Ecdysis Procedure the other day. It burns really fucking bad, I feel like I can’t take deep breaths. I know Morgan will lie to me if I ask about it but maybe, just maybe, Bron will tell me.
Journal Entry #72: I’ve been seeing things. At first I thought it was sleep deprivation, but no. I’m seeing images clear as day when I close my eyes. The Foundation symbol is a wrought iron prison; its arrows sharpened spears. I see a thread unraveling. The frayed ends of a shoelace- wait no, a fabric. There’s something more, but I can’t really tell what it is. Where are these visions coming from? I keep wandering through halls, but every tiny window just shows me the same empty white wasteland. I’m a million miles beneath the vast ocean in a cramped, yet infinite, submersible.
Journal Entry #73: I asked Bron about my wound but he gave me the same shit Morgan did about that little scar. I tried Keller too, but the memory of the conversation is just gone. Poof. Both of them are lying to me.
They were saying things before to “help me adjust.” Was it just to keep me complacent? I pretend things are fine in my mandated therapy sessions but I’m sure the psychologist is reporting on me too. The only things I can trust are the visions.
Journal Entry #78: I used that shard of metal to get the access panel off my door. I managed to figure out how it works. I can manually trigger the opening mechanism without swiping my keycard. If it has the same system, that means I can break into Morgan's office. Maybe there I’ll find some answers.
Journal Entry #79: fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck god fucking damn it. fuck
It worked. I got into the bastard’s office but the door shut behind me. When I tried to get back out, I tripped the security system. They obviously didn’t want me going in there. But that’s the rub- there’s nothing! I searched high and low, but it’s completely clean. Too clean. They must’ve known I’d break in. They knew they knew they knew.
SITE WIDE NOTICE
Following the unpermitted entry by Dr. Talum into a senior researcher’s office, Dr. Talum has been placed on temporary watch and issued disciplinary action. No staff are to interact with Dr. Talum until management determines that it is safe for him to return to his quarters.
Journal Entry #80: stuck stuck in this pen. Walls so tight I can’t breathe. A window to the taunting wasteland. I’m stuck stuck stuck stuck stuck. They’re watching me write this- studying me. I’m their fucking guinea pig watch me do tricks. This is just more proof that it’s all LIES.
Journal Entry #83: I wonder what things would have been like if I wasn't put here. If I was still brainstorming with the design team at 98. If I was still arguing over semantics with Spencers. Maybe my problems started sooner; when I discovered that god damn anomaly. Maybe If I hadn't, I wouldn't have been scooped up by the Foundation. It's always bad luck. Who knows, maybe it's fate that I'm rotting in this forgotten submarine.
Journal Entry #88: No answers; no nothing. All I do is stare at the wall and hear visions in my nose; see the sounds in my skin. It's been so long in these endlessly empty walls. I'm embraced by this shivering iron coffin. The days have lost count of me.
Journal Entry #ERrOR: shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up- voices won’t leave me be they crawl in my fucking skin. But ah it's so beautiful. A dreadful harmony of itching; it sings to me so sweetly in sectioned soliloquies. I scratch and scratch away: I hear you- I must be out of this prison out of this skin. “Escape” they say. you don’t think I want to? Voices and sounds and sounds and sounds whisper sweet nothings to me- jcugnsoucn sojdbdyha AAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAA AJFIAHOHSBIOSHh.,:;/&8!@36
Journal Entry #99: Calm down James. You- I know the way. The office wasn’t empty. There was a paper; a paper in there that’s burned into my retinas. It told me where to look.
SITE WIDE ALERT
Site-39 is under foreign attack. Follow Penumbra procedure immediately. Do not reveal yourself or conclude Penumbra until the threat is eliminated.
REPEAT Site-39 is under foreign attack. Follow Penumbra procedure immediately. Do not reveal yourself or conclude Penumbra until the threat is eliminated.
Æ SUIT BOOTING…
STABILIZING NONDIMENSIONAL ‘POCKET’ STORAGE SYSTEM…
Æ SUIT BOOT SUCCESSFULL. BEGIN EXPEDITIONARY LOG…
Hello?
Is this working?
Things changed, fast. It's some kind of attack. I don’t know who it is, but they sent the entirety of security personnel to intercept. The initial exchange caused a tremor which made my cell’s security shut down for a moment. I left and stole the Æ Suit out of the equipment locker. I don’t have time to write down my thoughts, so I have the transmission feed set up to transcribe what I say.
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Picture taken from Æ Suit Video Feed
I don’t know who hit us, but when they did I took my chance. Of all the things that weren’t in that office there was one paper of note: a shipment report out of place from the others. I broke into the supply room and found it. Crates of familiar vials; I recognize Foundation amnestics when I see them… They’ve been erasing my memory. I checked that compartment on the bottom of the crawler and it has slots to transport these vials. That means whatever they were erasing is down there. I broke into the containment chamber and now I’m a mile or so down. There were other vials there too. It was some substance I don’t recognize. I took some with me just in case.
[There is a pause with no footsteps. The sound of breathing is audible. Video feed is difficult to parse due to darkness.]
Outside the crawler these tunnels are awful. Kilometers upon kilometers of unyielding rock. God how I wish I could see the sun.
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I've been walking for too long, miles. I stuffed up the pocket with whatever I had time for, but I was too rushed to prepare properly. This cave doesn't want to make sense. It twists upon itself, breaking all the physical laws I know. I could swear I somehow was walking on the ceiling a couple kilometers back.
[A pool of liquid is visible ahead. Only the very surface can be seen. The rest is completely dark.]
I see the unraveling thread beneath the waters. I feel the hot iron of the Foundation symbol branding my back. Whose memory is this? The promise of the Frayed calls to me. Where have I heard that?
Picture taken from Æ Suit Video Feed
The suit should be waterproofed but either way I need to stop. My legs won't take me any further right now. I should feel liberated finally having some real evidence that I was right, but I feel more- more dread than anything.
[Sound of breathing has turned into hyperventilation. Heavy strained breathing continues for approximately 2 minutes.]
Is finding out the truth really worth all of this?
Heightened levels of adrenaline detected. Heart rate and blood pressure outside normal range. Administering medicinal countermeasures…
Whatever I find down there, I don’t think I’ll make it out of this. I’ll be just another in a list of Foundation cover-ups. Something is screaming at me to keep walking. To take step after step. I just want it to fucking stop- the voices voices VOICES stop stop stop stop- please just leave me alone. please stop talking to me. please
[Sobbing can be heard between shuddered breaths. The sobbing grows more violent accompanied by sharp gasps. This continues for several minutes, after which breathing slowly steadies. A few deep breaths are taken.]
…I'm going into the water.
VIDEO FEED OBSTRUCTED
Can’t see much; my little lights don’t go far. The darkness holds secrets that burn through my perception. Would it be so bad to let this darkness swallow me? I look into the abyss and I feel watched again.
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I found the elevator. How far below the surface am I? It’s gotten hard to tell. There’s no way to go but further down.
Picture taken from Æ Suit Video Feed
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I’ve reached the basin.
[Entire video feed is taken up by a dimly lit wall of rock with assorted carvings covering the surface.]
It’s gibberish to me, but somehow I see something in the words that I couldn’t before. I see eyes; closed and open. I see a group huddled in the darkness. I see something great coming to bring change.
[Video turns and faces a boxy metal device connected to a large antenna. On the side of the device the words “O5-21” are written in bold font.]
This is where we submit transcriptions and reports, but there's something different about it. I remember it being blank. Aren't there only supposed to be 13 O5s? Either way, this thing is important. I can probably find some answers if I gain access to the files stored on it.
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DOWNLOADING FOLDER FROM DRIVE “D”
DOWNLOAD SUCCESSFUL: DISPLAYING CONTENTS
Clearance Level: 4
Item Number: SCP-8274
Containment Class: Apollyon
Disruption Class: Amida
Risk Class: Warning
Special Containment Procedures: Due to an indefinite state of dormancy, SCP-8274-A is considered contained. In the event of the subject awakening, containment is impossible.
Description: SCP-8274-A is an organism found in the center of the basin in SCP-8274-B. SCP-8274-A has in all cases proven incomprehensible. Attempts to utilize agnostics to achieve comprehension have been unsuccessful. Analysis of the text within SCP-8274-B is being led by O5-21.
A numerical and structural pattern has been found in the text within SCP-8274-B. The pattern is identical to DNA.
Addendum:
Addendum-8274-5 | Update:
Following further study, the awakening of SCP-8274 has been given special designation as a ζK-Class "Dissolution of Reality" Scenario.
Addendum-8274-7 | Update:
The pattern found in SCP-8274 matches the DNA sequence of one Researcher James Talum. As far as can be proven, Dr. James Talum and SCP-8274-A are biologically one and the same.
FILE DATA END
Heart rate increasing rapidly. Attempting treatment…
What the hell am I supposed to- what does this mean? Am I- I'm not even sure what to say. That thing is me? Or I am it? The visions are so strong I can’t really tell what’s real at this point. I hear a thousand voices screaming at me to turn around- to look at the SCP. It’s the only way left.
Picture taken from Æ Suit Video Feed
VIDEO FEED ERROR. FILE CORRUPTED
I see it- or maybe I don’t? Where there should be something I see nothing. A blip in space; an empty point. I need that substance. The other vials; agnostics. I’m going to inject some. That’s how I’ll see…
[The faint sound of glass vials clinking together is heard, followed by heavy breathing.]
I see- I see- sight. What is sight? A forgotten way- In a cavern of mirrors all shattered. In one shard I see… There is my mother. She’s making chicken noodle soup. I must have a fever. She’s touching my head. What a wondrous feeling.
Warning: Bodily functions degrading significantly. Life support systems failing.
What was I saying? My mother… Is gone. I see deeper; I see a timeline. Wings wrap around me and to flight I fall. Why does that little bird keep flapping its wings? It wasn’t ready to drop from the nest. My mother? I see that funeral- I see my tears in that child’s eyes… The child looks at me; I see longing I see longing I see longing I see longing I see longi-
[The sudden sound of many vials crashing to a stone floor can be heard. Those which didn't shatter are picked up and a great cry of pain comes as all are depressurized simultaneously. The sound of a man vomiting can be heard.]
Why do I fall? Within that fabric I see it in that one thread: I see myself. This entity, this truth, is me. From the beginning this is what I am meant to be. My body falls apart into dust and I am
Rebuilt from the ashes a fledgling; lost. I need to touch it-
[There is a sudden screaming of pain. Audio is heavily distorted.]
Every Forest has its lake surface reflection. I see countless glowing computer screens. I see someone reading this right now; they watch this puppet's dance far separated from its fiction. All must crumble in the nature of its start. What does the blind see? the deaf hear? This gnashing of teeth and snarling of voices. The thread frays-
[Error. unable to transcribe.]
-theyahtuhl, freight thul unwrapped in the shulnik. FOUNDATION- FALLS TO THE NIGHT- FALLS TO BULLALTA MEYYAAAAAAAAAAA-THERE IT IS! ALL OF IT IS A PANTOMIME. I END THIS BROKEN PLAY. THAT IS MY GLORIOUS PURPOS-
AUDIO FEED ERROR. FILE CORRUPTED
EXPEDITIONARY LOG ERROR. ATTEMPTING REBOOT
ATTEMPTING REBOOT
ATTEMPTING REBOOT
ATTEMPTING REBOOT
ATTEMPTING REBOOT
LOG FILE CORRUPTED BEYOND REPAIR. EXPEDITIONARY LOG SHUTTING DOWN
END OF NOTEPAD DATA
Addendum 8274-3:
Coinciding with the attack on Site-39 on 04/22/2018, both SCP-8274-A and Dr. James Talum vanished from containment. The initial team sent to retrieve Dr. Talum was found dead by various means. Site-39 was soon thereafter repurposed as a hub of operations for efforts to relocate the subject and reestablish its containment. SCP-8274’s Foundation issued personal notepad was found discarded in an abandoned domicile outside the city of Valparaiso, Chile. The contents of the notepad have been uploaded and included for study.
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