And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night.
by stormbreath
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8666 is to be kept within a standard Safe class anomalous object locker at Site-16. Individuals are only permitted to watch the film a single time to minimize repeat cognitohazard exposure.
Photograph of Castle Caernog taken by Max Veidt shortly after production of SCP-8666.
Description: SCP-8666 is a tape recording made by film director Marcus Roig, who perished in 1976 while producing an adaptation of The Masque of the Red Death by Edgar Allen Poe. This was to be a epic medieval horror adaptation which greatly expanded the plot. The first half of the film would focus on introducing six characters with independent narrative arcs that converged at a grand reverie thrown by Prince Prospero, which would comprise the second half of the film. Each character was thematically linked to one of the colors of the apartments from the original story — blue, purple, green, orange, white and violet. Prospero and the personification of the Red Death were each involved in the narratives of these plots, with the Red Death entity silently appearing in the background of several scenes, unacknowledged by the characters.
Production of this adaptation (to be entitled An Age of Red Death) was a notorious disaster, and was well-publicized at the time. It is believed that most — if not all — of the problems encountered during production were the result of anomalous activity, of which SCP-8666 is one of the only elements that remains active. Contemporary Foundation involvement was able to prevent widespread dissemination of any specific details of anomalous interference, but the general public regarded the project as "cursed".1 This belief was helped by the release of the 1984 documentary "Roig's Red Death: A Fantasy", which was produced by the Foundation Department of Misinformation.
Byam Shaw's illustration of the Red Death. Primary inspiration for appearance of Red Death used by Roig.
SCP-8666 depicts an evidently unscripted scene of improv dialogue between Prince Prospero (played by Lukas Liston) and the Red Death (played by an unknown actor). Although the Red Death was played by actor Max Veidt during filming of An Age of Red Death, he has denied all involvement in the production of SCP-8666, and the costume fully obscures the wearer's identity. It is suspected — but not confirmed — that the Red Death depicted in SCP-8666 itself was an anomalous entity. The production quality of SCP-8666 is low, significantly lower than that of An Age of Red Death, and it appears that the scene is being filmed on a handheld camera operated by Marcus Roig himself, with no crew present other than the director and two actors. Roig can be audibly heard directing the scene.
The scene opens with Prospero bemoaning his lack of impact in averting the ravages of the Red Death, and musing that perhaps his revels are enough to last as a memory of himself. The Red Death is then spotted in the corner of the room. It is unclear how the Red Death enters the scene (either from a production or diegetic capacity), as the door is visible during Prospero's monologue, and the Red Death was not previously visible. Upon noticing the Red Death, Prospero begins angrily lambasting it, before the Red Death swiftly walks forward and cleanly slices Prospero's throat2. The Red Death then sweeps a candelabra to the ground, causing the carpet to catch fire. Roig (holding the camera) flees the room, and the film ends.
Anomalous effects begin when any person (henceforth referred to as "the viewer") watches the full video. Until the sun has next fully risen above the horizon in respect to the viewer's location, an anomalous figure wearing the Red Death costume will appear in all mirrors, reflections, photographs, and films containing the viewer. Fear responses upon observation are not anomalous, but believed to be wholly because of the appearance of the Red Death costume. It will typically appear at a distance, although it will steadily approach the viewer. Just before sunrise, it is typically almost touching the viewer's image.
Timeline of Production
Marcus Roig had desired to produce an adaption of Edgar Allen Poe's Masque of the Red Death since at least 1960, at the start of his film production career. Following the success of his 1975 adaptation of Steamboat Willie, Marcus Roig was given funding by Cornerstone Cinema to produce his long awaited adaptation.
As Roig had already completed a script for the project in 1972 (co-authored with his longtime screenwriting partner Tetsuo Morgan), pre-production immediately began. Roig and Morgan flew to Europe to begin scouting locations for the film, while casting director Annette Sutton began to cast roles for the production. At this stage, she was primarily concerned with the lead roles of the film — Prince Prospero and the Red Death itself, both of which were to appear consistently throughout the film as well as crucially during the climax.
For the role of the Red Death, Sutton quickly cast Max Veidt, who was best known for playing the villain/monster in numerous arthouse and B-movie horror films during the 60's and 70's. Veidt had worked with Roig before on his second film, the 1966 The Copycat!, but they had not worked together since, as Roig had focused on mainstream movies since.
For the role of Prince Prospero, Sutton selected James McVane. This choice was apparently made due to studio direction from Cornerstone Cinema, who desired a well-known name to star in the film as the leading man. Sutton (and by phone, Roig) protested this choice, as the conventionally attractive McVane was a poor choice for their intended portrayal of Prince Prospero, who was seen as a repulsive hermit. Roig agreed to cast McVane under the condition that heavy makeup be applied, with Prince Prospero given significant wartime injuries.
However, tragedy soon struck.
Annette Sutton on James McVane's death, Roig's Red Death
It was the strangest thing, you know. I was at dinner with him and Raphael Aldighieri — he was one of the producers we were working with at Cornerstone — to discuss the role. He hadn't signed on formally yet, as we were still trying to work things out with Marcus still in Europe doing his location scouting. That was a pain of its own, and look what we got out of it.
But there we were at dinner, and just before the entrees came, James dismissed himself to go to the bathroom. Raphael and I were a bit worried — it wasn't public, but we both knew that James had something of a coke habit. It hadn't interfered with any of his last pictures to the best of our knowledge, but we were a little worried that it might be getting worse, if that was what he was leaving the table to do. I have to admit there was a little gossip, which turned a bit sour as Raphael accused me of trying to use that as an excuse to get James out of the role — he knew we were looking for someone who paired a little better with Max. I mean, James McVane as a dramatic horror victim, the true villain of the thing? He was such a pretty boy, a leading role absolutely but not the kind for the despot of Prospero.
But then — then we heard screaming. I wish I could tell you we got up to check out the commotion but … well, we didn't think it had anything to do with us and it wouldn't be good if we got involved, would it? So we sat right where we were and joked we wished we had joined James for his coke break — it'd be a little excitement, you know. But then they started saying the name and oh my god. Oh my god.
James had … well, I don't know. They were never that conclusive about what happened. One of the only witnesses said it looked like James had jumped, but another said it was like something pulled him through the window. We were on the tenth floor, so I have to just assume the second person had a little too much of their own. Declared dead on the scene when the ambulances arrived.
You know, I turned to Raphael as soon as they rolled away and said, "Well, if the coke habit wasn't enough to get James out of the role, how about that?"
Roig immediately returned from Europe — wrapping up the location scout early — to attend McVane's funeral. With McVane dead, and in such a dramatic and public manner, it was necessary to recast the role, but most of the leading men that Cornerstone was interested in acquiring were suddenly uninterested. Already, the production was viewed as cursed. Roig, eager to start filming, contacted a lifelong friend and his original choice, Lukas Liston, to play Prospero. Liston had a reputation as erratic and difficult to work with, and had just been fired from a production led by Steven Spielberg. Prospero was adapted back to a conventionally attractive man, as Liston refused the makeup required to play the character as a scarred veteran.
Soon after the funeral of James McVane, and directly before filming started, Roig announced that An Age of Red Death was to be his last movie, a statement that came as a shock to many in the industry. Although no firm contracts had been settled, Roig had been tentatively scheduled to produce a number of upcoming productions and seemed to be at the peak of his career. Many were particularly confused by his refusal to discuss the sudden shift in attitude, or his plans for after the film was concluded. Many attached to the production linked his change in behavior to McVane's death, with several noting that he appeared to feel guilty for the death, despite no apparent relation.
Filming began in May 1976 in Scotland. Another possible anomalous event soon ocurred, during a scene where Cyrano3 (thematically linked to the color blue) attempts to rescue several children from drowning in water tainted by the Red Death, one week into filming. The following testimony was collected by the Department of Misinformation from Giel Beek, the stunt coordinator for the film, but heavily edited for the final release of Roig's Red Death.
Giel Beek on drowning accident, Roig's Red Death
We're lucky that nobody died.
Well, there, in that instance. Of course people died — some stretch the curse back to McVane, who I have to remind you wasn't even linked to the film at the time. That was just an unfortunate… accident, I suppose.
Which, I suppose you could say this was as well, although I have my suspicions. Suspicions. No, I shouldn't say that, I know what happened, I saw it for myself, with my own two eyes. Few else on set really saw it. Danilo was too shook up after it happened to really give his account — and of course, he rationalized what happened to him. Vines, I think he said.
Like vines can pull a grown man fully beneath the water. Like vines will leave bruising on your leg, in the shape of fingers. See, the problem is that nobody ever wants to confront the truth. Drowning, death, failure, the monster — all of these are things you would rather not see, and so you don't. Unless you're just an inch away, and then it is as clear as day.
I could see it from the operating boom above the water — we were supposed to be getting an overhead shot of him swimming to rescue the children. They weren't in the water at the time, we hadn't filmed that yet. Fortunate. With John Landis's little accident a few years back, everyone assumes that the accident must have endangered the children. Not that we could have been at fault with this one, given, well.
What is there to say? I saw something surge up beneath the water, grab Danilo and pull him down below the surface. I can't say what it was, but it looked like a person, and I saw how it reached its hand around his leg and pulled. He went down thrashing and the crew came in quick to pull him back out. Perhaps I caused a bit of a ruckus when I tried to tell everyone what I had seen. Perhaps I made that worse when I punched Marcus in the face when he wanted to incorporate it into his stupid movie.
"So what if he almost died?" He said. "We're all dying anyway."
Bam. Right hook to the face.
After Farre's accident, Roig retreated into his trailer for two days and refused to emerge. Max Veidt — himself a director and well-respected among the cast and crew — directed second unit photography for these days, strictly following the script, although this move was contested by Lukas Liston, who similarly tried to direct second unit photography, although he did not have the same cachet as Veidt.
After two days, Roig exited and apologized for the accidents on set, and alluded to the potential for more. Several crew members recounted that he appeared to take responsibilty for the death of James McVane, even though he had been in another country at the time and production had not yet begun. His apologies for the incident involving Farre also led to confusion, as it had seemed to be a largely avoidable and undramatic accident (overshadowed by Giel Beek assaulting Roig immediately after).
Other than the sudden and mostly unexplained shift in personality from Roig, production continued as normal. Roig began to insist upon large changes to the script, greatly expanding several narrative arcs and filming additional hours of content for the first half of the film. Many began to doubt the practicality of this approach and whether the scenes would be included in the film, but it was not unheard for Roig to film considerably more content than needed and greatly edit the film down to a manageable duration.
One of Roig's more erratic moments during production followed.
Tetsuo Morgan on the mirror incident, Roig's Red Death
There was an intended scene in which Verbena — the purple protagonist — was chased into a maze of mirrors by the Red Death, during a traveling carnival. We didn't get to film it. Roig completely shut down.
We were setting up the scene, and Roig and myself were approaching the set, when he began screaming, and charged at one of the mirrors, smashing it to pieces with a hammer. I ran at him and pulled him back, trying to wrestle some kind of answer out of him for that, but he just kept screaming. He pointed all around, looking at all of the mirrors, and frantically ordering that they all be destroyed.
I pulled him back to his trailer and sat him down, trying to knock some sense into him. He refused to speak to me until I threw a cloth over the mirror in the trailer, and in the bathroom and even then — nothing. He just told me that we'd have to cut the scene, he'd write something else. I offered to help. You have to realize, despite everything he was doing, I still thought of him as my friend, and my primary intention was taking care of him.
Before I left the trailer, he looked at me and said — we have to get rid of all the mirrors. I can't leave until you do.
I still have no idea what he saw in them.
Production costs continued to mount. Inclement weather required extensions to shooting, Roig proved to be uncharacteristically hostile and abrasive to his cast and crew (leading to several fights, firings and replacements), and the vision for scenes frequently changed midshoot. In one notable incident, Roig elected to hire the entire population of a small hamlet to play background characters in a scene where the Marquis de Laster (the character representing white) rides through a plague infested village with Prince Prospero. This scene would only last approximately fifteen seconds in the final cut, and had already been filmed with a smaller amount of extras.
Cornerstone pictures repeatedly threatened to cut Roig's funding, and finally declared production would only be allowed to continue if the film moved from its more expensive (and less narratively important) opening half to the climax. This was a calculated move by Cornerstone to force Roig from continuing to expand and alter the script of the film, as the scenes set at Prince Prospero's abbey had a single location, limited cast, and practically no special effects.
Reluctantly, Roig ended the first phase of photography, and the entire cast came to Castle Caernog to finish the production. Even in this stage, Roig was making constant edits to the script. Tetsuo Morgan — having been given strict instructions from Cornerstone — rejected most of these adaptations, leading to frequent fighting. On several occassions, Roig delivered type-written copies of his new script to actors and filmed new sequences without studio oversight.
The most anomalous event of production occurred in the final days of filming. As recounted by Harriet Full, a grip operator:
Harriet Full on the film incident, Roig's Red Death
To this day I have no idea what could have caused something like that. There were a number of theories, but everyone was really just fooling themselves. There was a lot of that at the end, as we all kind of realized that the film was a dead man walking. We hadn't been officially canned yet, production hadn't been shut down — but it was clear that Cornerstone was going to spend several long hours with this film on the chopping block to make something out of it to reclaim what meager investment it could. Probably a low-grade horror movie, knowing the names attached, with only a passing resemblance to the actual story.
That's my theory for the camera thing, anyway. The psychic aura we were causing on the set corrupted the film, and made us all look like corpses on it. Mind over matter, right? I've read a lot about how our brains emit waves into the world that can affect our surroundings — its how telepathy and telekinesis and astral projection work — so I think even though nobody on the set was a psychic, we all had a bit of an effect on it, and collectively we equated to one depressed, morbid psychic.
It is the most logical explanation I can muster for why we all looked like corpses on the last day of filming. I was quite the sight myself, all burned to a crisp! You'd expect that from more, given what happened later that night, but everyone was a corpse in different ways. Lukas had a bullet wound in his head, Tetsuo was bleeding everywhere. The funniest was Max Veidt — he looked like he'd died of old age, peacefully. Pale and thin, but nothing else. Weird guy, that one.
Back to the mood, at least. It was pretty grim on set. Our psychic presence was causing omens of ill end, and the omens were making the mood worse, causing an even worse psychic presence. Everyone was depressed, everyone was freaked out, everyone wanted to leave. Nobody wanted to even acknowledge what was happening on the film. Roig told us to scrap it, we wouldn't film that day, keep the rest of the cast and crew from freaking out. Thank god we only had one more day, we all said. Just finish this out, and it's Roig's problem to fix in post.
The final day of filming was scheduled for the next day. This would be the penultimate scene of the movie, and one of the few directly based on Poe's original short story, in which Prince Prospero runs through the mansion, attempting to kill the apparation of the Red Death. According to Roig's vision, this was to be a single continuous tracking shot, and a great deal of coordination was in place to ensure that the camera could be rolled through the various rooms, capturing the revelers.
The general attitude of the crew, at this point, was already grim. With the various troubles of production encountered so far (as well as the growing and vocal displeasure of Cornerstone with how overbudget the film was), it was seeming more and more unlikely that the film would be ultimately edited and released. Many believed that, even if released, it would be a box office bomb that would destroy the careers of much of the cast. Still, with only a single day of filming remaining, the crew retired for the night.
That night, Marcus Roig filmed SCP-8666 with Lukas Liston, capturing the start of a fire that would burn down Castle Caernog. Several members of the cast and crew perished in this fire. One of the few who saw Roig during this time was Max Veidt, whose account follows.
Max Veidt on the fire, Roig's Red Death
I awoke in the middle of the night to a hideous heat and the screaming of my fellows. Evidently, I was one of the last to awaken, for I have always been a deep sleeper. The door knob to my room was already too hot to be touched, and I was forced to consider an alternate means of fleeing the castle, into the cold and dark snowdrifts that surrounded us. It is to my fortune that I have been in the custom of keeping a pitcher of water by my bedside, and so I was able to douse the fabrics of the room and block the door with wetness, keeping the smoke at bay and allowing me a moment of thought.
For egress, I was forced to turn to the windows. Woefully for myself, I had requested a room in the highest reaches of the castle, wishing to enjoy the views. This was a move that could have proven my death, had I not been a cunning man of action. You see, although my room did not have a balcony, the ledge underneath the window was easily one foot in width. I bundled myself in my warmest fabrics and ventured into the cold, securing myself upon that precarious edge.
Like Dracula and his lizard fashion, I scaled along the wall to further down, hoping that one of the windows on this level would permit access to a portion of the castle not engulfted in fire. With characteristic Veidt luck, the window three down from my own revealed an open door and while the light of the fire was visible, the flames themselves were not. I smashed it open with the handle of my knife, a tool I carry at all times, and opened the window to enter. I knew the stairs down were in the direction not exposed by the fire, and I could safely use them, so I headed in that direction. Looking back down the hall, flames had entirely begun to engulf my room — I was only moments away from funerary pyre.
Venturing further down, I heard screaming. I am led to believe that I was one of, if not the last, to emerge from the castle that night, and so it is to my understanding no one else heard those screams. It was clearly Marcus, ranting with some unheard entity, blaming it for the destruction of the castle and the fire that engulfed it. I do not take it to have been the irrational delusions and ranting of hallucinating man, but rather hold I could not hear the other person, whoever it might be. Marcus would pause, and then return, rather than the unbroken and continuing nonsense one would expect from a man arguing with himself.
It was not long before I came to the grand staircase, itself already enveloped in flames. I knew then that the castle would burn entirely, and much like the film there was no saving it. I could only hope that all those inside had managed to escape. Then, I heard a voice behind me — Marcus. He called to me, and asked if I had seen Max Veidt, myself. I turned and screamed that I was here, and we needed to escape. He looked at me in shock, muttering some remark about how I had changed from costume so quickly, a comment the nature of which eludes me to this day. I told him I would wear no costumes any longer, for this film had finally come to the inevitable conclusion.
This was the most harrowing moment, when he lifted his camera and turned back to face the fire. I'll never forget his final words: "No, the film has finally redeemed itself." Without any desire to remain there and see what he had planned, I dashed out the front doors. The rest of the crew were nearby, and assumed myself to have died. The sudden manifestation of my visage caused incredible ruckus, and many assumed myself to be a ghost. I assured them I was no spectre, but with heavy heart confirmed they could count Marcus among the wraiths.
The Foundation was already aware of the possible anomalous nature of production and quickly intervened upon hearing of the fire, preventing local authorities from becoming involved. Upon discovery that distinctly anomalous experiences had not been encountered by the surviving cast and crew, the Foundation allowed most to leave and began a physical investigation of Castle Caernog. The corpse of Marcus Roig was soon discovered in the wreckage, as he was found hanged from a rafter in a portion of the castle at the center otherwise unaffected by the blaze. Signs of a significant physical struggle have led to the suspicion that Roig was murdered by an unknown party, rather than suicide. Who this might be is unclear.
SCP-8666 was found in the camera at Marcus's feet. No other anomalous effects were discovered within Castle Caernog.
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