It's not about the violence. But it certainly helps.
ITEM #:
9090
CONTAINMENT CLASS:
EUCLID
LOGIN ACCEPTED AT VENTILATION TERMINAL B16. WELCOME, GUEST. DISPLAYING SCP-9090 UNIVERSAL ACCESS FILE.
SPECIAL CONTAINMENT PROCEDURES: SCP-9090 is stored in a humanoid containment chamber at Bio-Containment Site-89. Comfort and leisure amenities have been waived; all other protocols for containment of a sentient object apply. The object should be fed a diet of meat and blood via remote apparatus. Consult a project member for dietary specifics and feeding schedule.
Animals are not permitted access to SCP-9090, unless approved by Senior Researcher Presley Truong. Human access to SCP-9090 is limited to authorized personnel only. Should the object bleed, fluids must be cleaned immediately. Under no circumstances should SCP-9090's blood be ingested.
DESCRIPTION: SCP-9090 is an organic humanoid standing at 1.98 meters and weighing 67.8 kilograms. It displays limited motor control, but is believed to be sentient and aware of its surroundings.
Externally, the object resembles a lioness (Panthera leo), both visually and genetically, with a roughly human build and stature. The object's skin contains traces of borax, formaldehyde, and arsenic, chemicals commonly used during the taxidermy process, and the skin has been positively dated as being over fifty years old. In addition, its eyes are made of an acrylic substance colored to resemble a lion's eyes, and are presumably non-functional.
Internally, the object's composition is poorly understood, but it appears to be genetically human. Attempts to operate on the object to ascertain its internal structure have been met with difficulty, as all cuts made to the skin begin to bleed profusely, far in excess of what the incision should allow. Injuries appear to generate an autonomic nervous response in the form of pain and muffled vocalizations, but sustained blood loss has yet to cause any permanent damage.
Excessive blood loss leads to a general lethargy, but once the incision is sewn shut, the object appears to recover at an accelerated rate. A study of the blood revealed it to be █████ ██████ ██ █ ████ █ ███ █. ███████ ██████ ███ █ ██ █ ██ █ █████, and should be considered a Level 5 Biological Hazard.
X-Ray scans and other non-invasive methods have revealed what appear to be human organs and internal systems, but the skeletal structure demonstrates a mix of human and animal features (a pronounced skull, enlarged incisors, exaggerated coccyx, etc.). The skin, however, appears to be foreign and is not a genetic match to the object's internal features, suggesting it may have been attached at a later point through unknown means.
Behavioral studies have been inconclusive. The object responds to basic stimuli and demonstrates various biological urges (eating, sleeping), but has not shown evidence of higher brain functions. It does not excrete waste matter. The object typically ambulates on four limbs, but has been observed to walk upright on occasion (for instance, to reach a food item placed on a high shelf). The object has thus far made no effort to communicate, nor has it responded to communication efforts from staff.
Update: ██████ ████████ ████ ██████. ████ █ ██ █ ███. █████ ██ ██████ ██████. Transcripts accessible to Level 4/9090 personnel only.
It is unknown if SCP-9090 qualifies as a living organism or merely a crude facsimile of one. It is unknown if the object can die. The current containment procedures have been deemed an acceptable use of the Foundation's resources, subject to change should new information emerge.
ADDENDUM A: Context
SCP-9090 was discovered by first responders in ██████, United States, on June 11, 20██, who attempted to ██████ and detain the object in a public space. ████ ██████████ ██ ██ ████ ██. The object was attempting to exsanguinate a human body ████ ████████ ████. Once first responders' efforts to remove the object's skin failed, the ████ ██████ █ ████. ████████ ██ ████ ██ ████ ██ ██████ █ █████ █ ██ █ ████████. Several were hospitalized.
The object was transferred to Foundation custody with minimal difficulty. Minor amnestics were administered to witnesses under CSP-211 ("Animal Attack"). Pressurized water proved partially effective in disposing of the blood and preventing a wider security breach. █████ █ █ ██ ████ ████ ██████ ████ █ █████. The rest was sanitized using incendiary devices.
ADDENDUM B: [DATA EXPUNGED]
NOTICE: FILE LOCKED PER ADMINISTRATIVE ORDER TIGON-615 ("ACTIVE CONTAINMENT BREACH"). TERMINAL ACCESS CREDENTIALS INSUFFICIENT TO VIEW THE REMAINDER OF THIS DOCUMENT. ACCESS ATTEMPT LOGGED WITH SITE INFOSEC. CONTACT A SERVICE TECHNICIAN IF YOU BELIEVE THIS TO BE AN ERROR.
File: #9090-87JKPS583J (Most recent upload)
Description: Technician Report (Uncategorized). Logged by Guest03383.
Junior Analyst Park,
We didn't talk much. I am—was—the parabiologist assigned to SCP-9090. If you're reading this, then something terrible has happened to me. And, likely, everyone else on the project.
It also means you found the odd note under your desk, followed the instructions carefully, and found yourself at a dusty computer at the bottom of a maintenance well. Hope the air's fresh. If you're lucky, Security isn't waiting at the top of the ladder to arrest or kill you.
I was very particular in my instructions. If you're smart, you will have enough time to read what's on this computer. What you choose to do after is up to your conscience; turn it in to Security, carry on the work, delete it. I am of the belief that SCP-9090 is something foundational. I tried to understand it. I failed. If the Site isn't burning down or being nuked, then there's still work to be done.
Stored on this computer's local storage (and secret from the all-seeing Network, for now) is an arrangement of documents I managed to scavenge from the bins and unattended desks of my coworkers. Some of these you've seen. Many you have not. Something in here will be useful.
I chose you because, out of everyone on the project, you know the least. That is good. It keeps you focused. Useful.
Don't let this all be for nothing.
File: #9090-FGTE4738GF
Description: Audio recording. Room 9090-A-5 (Cell Observation Room). Transcribed by Researcher Judith Fuller.
[BEGIN]
TRUONG: This is Dr. Presley Truong speaking, Senior Researcher assigned to SCP-9090. I’m accompanied by Dr. Judith Fuller, Parabiology. The date is May 11, 20██. This is the first recorded attempt at an interview with SCP-9090.
(Pause.)
I have with me here a list of questions, prepared by myself and Dr. Fuller, with the counsel of the other project members. The purpose of this interview is to establish a dialogue with the object and attempt to ascertain its mental capabilities.
The interview will be conducted through a live medium. Animal Services has provided us with one Corvus corax for the purposes of communicating with the object. Officially “Utech,” but we call him Buck. Questions will be addressed to the object, and responses will be recorded through Buck's speech. We are seated in the observation room. SCP-9090 is opposite the glass to us. Buck is quarantined in an adjoining room, in case of unforeseen contamination between us, the animal, and the object. SCP-9090 is prone on its provided bed, unrestrained. It has been fed. It’s looking at us, currently, but seems docile—nothing like its initial behavior.
We have a microphone and a camera hooked up to Buck's chamber, but nothing connecting Buck to SCP-9090, minus proximity. Their relationship seems… almost telepathic. We are unsure. The exact mechanics of this exchange will be the subject of future research.
Okay. (Exhale). First question: Are you aware of your surroundings?
(UTECH hums. It searches its room frantically, hopping. Its voice comes as a low, guttural hum.)
UTECH: Yes. Yeeeees. Yes.
FULLER: (Hushed) Fascinating…
TRUONG: Okay. Excellent, excellent. Please—can you describe your surroundings?
UTECH: This body is warm. Body is warm. Body is. Waaaarm. I am. Dark! Dark!
(UTECH taps the concrete floor with its beak.)
UTECH: Dark!
TRUONG: (Aside) Judith, the transcript of this recording will fail to display how unusual this is. The bird is speaking words far better than any mimicry from similar species I’ve heard in the field.
FULLER: I will make a note of it. “Unusual vocal sophistication?” Its complexity is far superior to what I’d expect, but it seems channeled through Buck's existing physiology. That is to say, its body seems unchanged. It’s as if its mind is evolving… Sorry. I'll save it for the write-up.
UTECH: Question. Next. Question.
TRUONG: Alright. As you wish. Can you describe your understanding of self?
(UTECH cocks its head.)
UTECH: Don’t under. Stand. Under. Stand. I feel. I. Live.
TRUONG: Okay. We’ll move on. What is your earliest memory?
UTECH: Child. Hood.
(UTECH taps the floor with its beak.)
FULLER: How strange.
TRUONG: Childhood? Does that mean… are you human?
(UTECH halts movement.)
UTECH: Are you. Human? Are you human?
TRUONG: Yes—are you human?
UTECH: Don’t know. Don’t know. Know! Know! Answer. Me. Answer me.
TRUONG: I can try.
UTECH: Where am. I? Where am. I? Need to get. Out?
TRUONG: I’m sorry. We can’t do that right now. Maybe with your cooperation we can—
UTECH: Why. Not? Why? Why? Why?
(UTECH shows agitation. SCP-9090 rises from its bed.)
TRUONG: I’m sorry. We—I can’t arrange that, but—
FULLER: Why do you bleed?
(SCP-9090 approaches the observation glass. It begins pacing the window.)
TRUONG: Save it for the follow-up, Judith.
FULLER: What is your purpose? I want to know—
UTECH: No time. No time. I’m sorry. Sorry! Sorry!
(SCP-9090 discharges a significant quantity of blood. Visuals obscured. UTECH ceases movement, appearing to fall asleep.)
(Truong disables the intercom system.)
FULLER: Why did you—
TRUONG: Fuller—this interview is done. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but do not jeopardize our operation by antagonizing the object.
FULLER: I wasn't—
(She sighs.)
FULLER: I understand. That was unprofessional of me. I'm sorry.
TRUONG: Our questions will be answered in due time. Have patience, please. And would you get sanitation on the line for me?
[END]
File: #9090-0000000000
Description: ERROR: IMPROPER UPLOAD//IRRELEVANT DATA
"…[His] voice was thunder, [his] laugh the shifting of the earth. When [he] wept the world wept. When [he] rose it was the rising of the sun. All of creation spread before [him].
[He] took [the idol] in [his] jaws when all the animals were gathered so they could see how it is done."
- Excerpt, lines 11-14. Proverb of the Cult of the Risen God
File: #9090-48FHF210DS
Description: Combined video and audio recording. Room 9090-F-1 (Evidence Locker).
[BEGIN]
(CCTV footage of the SCP-9090 evidence locker. Researcher Judith Fuller stands with her back to the camera.)
(Footsteps approach, and Senior Researcher Presley Truong appears.)
TRUONG: (Gasp) Judith? Jesus Christ, you scared me. What are you doing here? I thought everyone went home?
FULLER: Sorry, Presley. I was just—finishing up some of the transcripts.
TRUONG: In the evidence locker?
(Fuller begins packing up her items.)
FULLER: I was just leaving.
TRUONG: What’s this about, Judith?
FULLER: Nothing. It’s nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow.
TRUONG: Oh, while you’re here; Clay got back to me about our theory. That 9090 was, at some point, a non-anomalous human. It might have legs, if we can get convincing samples of its internal organs. The bleeding is an issue, but I was thinking we could—
FULLER: I don’t think that’s a good idea.
TRUONG: —Oh? Why not?
FULLER: Its blood is far too precious to waste. We don’t know if it has a limited quantity, or how it’s produced. Spilling it over useless tests is… well, it’s almost offensive.
TRUONG: What are you talking about? This theory—I thought testing it was your idea.
FULLER: I’ve changed my mind.
(Fuller stops packing and stands still. She looks at Truong closely.)
FULLER: I watched the footage of 9090’s discovery. What it was doing to those people. And all that blood… it didn’t sit right with me. If it was violent for violence’s sake, that’s one thing. But why would it need so many different victims, all in one place? Plus the bystanders? It didn’t add up.
That, and all our testing of its blood, only for us to write it off as hazardous waste?
I took a trip to microbiotics. Pulled some strings to skip the queue. It wasn’t easy, but what I found was… nothing short of incredible. 9090’s blood—it’s not just volatile. We thought it was corrosive… that it destroys organic matter, melts it down indiscriminately. Well, microbiotics disagree. And I do too.
TRUONG: What are you proposing?
FULLER: 9090 doesn’t destroy. Yes, it dissolves matter it’s in contact with, but only initially. When we let the process play out, everything it touches begins to… take on new properties. And when I introduced the blood to organic matter… it changed.
TRUONG: You introduced it to organic matter? How? You know how hard it is to get approved for that.
FULLER: That doesn’t matter. The results, they’re hard to describe. I watched as the sample sprouted leaves, Presley. Made from the same blood I fed it. 9090 manipulates—evolves—through forces we don’t understand. I’m not even sure it understands either. All it knows is how to eat. The rest is instinct.
TRUONG: I’m… not sure I follow.
FULLER: That’s okay. You’ll see. I’ll find a way to prove it.
[END]
File: #9090-HJF573J5QP
Description: Ambient audio recording. Automatically transcribed. Voices identified as Senior Researcher Presley Truong and Junior Researcher Reese Park.
[BEGIN]
TRUONG: —and here we are. Room 9090-A-1. This is technically the containment cell antechamber, but it's big enough for us to do most of our work. All our important files are stored locally, so you'll have to use these terminals to access all the real data—anything we don't put up for universal access, which, on this project, is quite a lot.
(Animal squawks).
PARK: What is—
TRUONG: (Laughs) That's Buck. He's just saying hello.
UNKNOWN: Hello? Hello?
PARK: A crow…?
TRUONG: Raven. Officially Utech-One of Special Task Force Azalea. Specially made for this project. Or so I've been told. You'll meet the rest of them eventually. We requisition them from their animal caretakers when needed. Buck here does the job well enough most of the time.
PARK: And what is that job?
TRUONG: Hopefully, you'll get a live demonstration before the end of the week. It is quite something.
Continuing… Over there, that's the Senior Researcher's office. My office. I'm there most days if you need anything. If I'm gone, just ask Damien or Dr. Vern, and they can get a message to me. They have my cell.
You've got restrooms on the left, next to the water tank. There's a break room around the corner with a fridge and microwave, if you don't want to brave the Site cafeteria. Emergency shelter is back in the hallway, on the far end next to the elevators. You should be familiar with how they work by now, they're the standard model.
PARK: I am. Never had to use one, thankfully.
TRUONG: And you never will, so long as we follow protocol. Straight ahead, that door goes to our outfitting room. For when we need sanitation. Most likely, you'll never need anything in there, but it never hurts to familiarize yourself just in case. On the opposite end is the evidence locker, for short-term storage of materials before they get shipped out to Nineteen.
I know it seems like a lot, but don't worry; in a few weeks, you'll be all caught up on where we're at currently with our research objectives.
(Pause)
TRUONG: You look nervous. Relax. You're here because you showed promise in your prelim experiments. Just be diligent, and don't forget your curiosity. That's how things happen around here.
PARK: My position—my old supervisor was vague. What exactly am I doing here?
TRUONG: Junior Data Analyst. We're upsizing. Apparently, SCP-9090 might be more interesting than we thought. (Pause). I've overseen research on a dozen objects or more. I've seen people spiral into obsessions over nothing. Spend long enough looking at something, and it loses all meaning. I've seen it all before. If you ask me, that's what's going on here. But orders are orders. Command wants more research, so we need an analyst.
(Silence)
We're a pretty tight crew, here. Some of these people I've worked with for many years, might even call friends. But the way everyone's been acting… I can't explain it. Cognition's cleared us of any influence, but something's not quite right. Stay sharp, do your job. But if you see something that seems off… my office is right there. Or use the Site's hotline.
Enough of that talk. Don't want to scare you off on the first day. This desk here is yours. I can arrange to have your stuff dropped off in the hallway, but you're gonna have to bring it inside yourself. Sorry. Site procedure.
PARK: Yeah, no problem. And I assume that way is…
TRUONG: Yeah. 9090 proper, right down there. We have an interview planned for Friday that you can sit in on. You got the packet I sent you? Minor stuff, really. There's a paper from Woodard and Roy…
PARK: Climatology and the human…
TRUONG: The Human Psychospace. Yes. That's the one. And Cochran's "Behavior of the Telepath." There's a section on animal brains you'll want to memorize. They're a bit dry, but they'll catch you up to speed. And if you ever have questions, talk to Judith Fuller—our resident parabiologist. She's around here most days. Don't tell her, but I think she might sleep here.
I think that's it. Make sure you're caught up on our safety protocols; they're archaic, sure. But for this kind of project, we're flying blind.
[END]
File: #9090-0000000000
Description: ERROR: IMPROPER UPLOAD//IRRELEVANT DATA
"…Of the fourth and final operation, there was only one survivor. The skin graft proved most dangerous, causing the rapid deaths of seventeen, mostly adolescent, volunteers.
In the sole survivor, the melding was enhanced by the injection of altered hemoglobin into the subdermal layer. Musculoskeletal evolution occurred within seventy-two hours."
- Chapter 4: Surgical Practices in the AoF Pantherine Cults
File: #9090-JEUSN17819
Description: Surveillance footage of Room 9090-H-11 (Organics Lab).
[BEGIN]
(Fuller stands before a lab counter. Next to her is the lab’s first aid kit, opened, and a bloodied scalpel. She holds up her arm. Blood drips from a large circular gash across her forearm. It collects in a small petri dish. A tape label on the dish reads “Lionblood.”)
(She stands in silence, watching her blood mix with the fluid in the dish. After several minutes, her knees give out and she begins to fall. She catches herself on a nearby chair, then regains her balance.)
FULLER: Fuck, that hurts.
(She clasps a hand across her wound, blood seeping through her fingers, before reaching for a nearby gauze patch.)
(She watches the blood mix. As she stares at the dish, her head droops until her cheek rests on the lab counter. She stays like this, unmoving, for fifteen minutes.)
FULLER: (Gasp)
(Smoke begins emitting from the dish. The color of the blood becomes iridescent.)
FULLER: It's the blood. It's in the blood…
(The dish produces an immense light, damaging the camera’s image sensors. Dark smoke continues to pour from the blood. Fuller steps back and shields her eyes.)
(Thin red tendrils emerge from the dish, reaching for the ceiling. They are made of blood. They quickly harden, darkening. Matter extrudes from the stalks, flattening into veiny discs. They reach for the ceiling lights, enveloping them in a matter of seconds. Vines droop, and a carpet of red moss spreads across the counter.)
(Fuller searches beneath the counter and produces a fire extinguisher. She douses the dish and the counter. The smoke dissipates, and the stalks become flaccid and collapse. She ushers the remains of the experiment into a large garbage bag and places it in the lab incinerator.)
(She spends ten minutes bandaging her arm, before shutting off the room’s lights and exiting.)
[END]
File: #9090-1112HHQ1J1
Description: Abbreviated interview #55. Interview conducted through UTECH-1. Compiled by Data Analyst Reese Park.
QUESTION: Describe your past.
ANSWER: Born again. Born again.
QUESTION: Do you have feeling in your body?
ANSWER: Pulse. Ing. Ing. Burning! Burning! Blood is. Burning!
QUESTION: Do you feel pain?
ANSWER: Yes. No. Sorry! I’m sorry! Help. Me? Me? Me? Help?
QUESTION: What is your name?
ANSWER: (UTECH provided no response.)
QUESTION: How do you communicate?
ANSWER: The words. Find. Me. Me! Me! Learn. To speak!
QUESTION: What is your earliest memory?
ANSWER: I dreamed. I was. The lion! Lion! And so. I. Became. Became? The lion! Lion! Lion! The lion! Is me. I am. Or. Soon to be.
QUESTION: What would you do if released?
ANSWER: Find the. Su. Ze. Rain. Rain. Rain! Rain!
File: #9090-57382DUS38
Description: SCP-9090 Historical Report and Risk Assessment. Produced by Dr. Judith Fuller, Parabiology, for the consideration of the Site-89 research community. Delivered to the desk of the Site Director.
Early efforts to understand SCP-9090 failed to account for one critical detail: this anomaly does not exist in a vacuum. It is not a random mutation of the universe or a mistake of reality, like so much of its ilk. Rather, it follows a long tradition of occult interest in Panthera leo, spanning centuries.
Humans have always been fascinated with the face of the lion. Power, wisdom, kindness, faith. Almost every culture on Earth has revered the animal, and much ink has been spilled in the attempt to understand this animal within its historical context (Gooden and Willis, from our own Parahistory Department, provide an excellent commentary). Below the veil, the occult lion takes on new skin. I'm not authorized to disclose much, but one need look no further than the infamous LEV Collective's North American blood trade and their unsettling leonine insignia. The messaging of their frontmost leaders speaks for itself.
However, I seek here to pursue a new line of inquiry.
(Abridged)
Interviews with SCP-9090 have been especially forthcoming in this regard, ever since it was discovered that the object shares a certain affinity with animal mediums. We have learned much from our conversations. Of primary note is the object’s past. We now know SCP-9090 to have been human once, before undergoing radical genetic and structural changes. The reason for this, and whether it was freely done or coerced, is still unknown. I am confident this information can be teased with additional time and patience.
The object’s current condition has severely impaired the object’s capacity for intelligible thought, although certain ideas have been adequately communicated. I’m sure we can all recall the interviews during our initial efforts at developing the object’s dietary plan, amongst site-wide budget cuts. Its behavior when its food source was disrupted remains a powerful reminder of its unpredictability.
(Abridged)
Hunger seems to be its prime motivator, despite the object’s seeming lack of functional digestive organs. It eats just fine, indeed seems to savor it. But when the object is exposed to blood, its behavior changes. We’ve all seen the recovery footage, its behavior when presented with a live, bleeding organism. I’ve heard others describe it as a rapid self-exsanguination. That's a close enough description.
We’ve been hesitant to press this line of thinking further, in light of the object’s discovery. However, recent efforts by myself and certain concerned members of the research team have made a breakthrough discovery. When mixed with an adequate base, SCP-9090’s blood at first destroys, renders void. And then it builds and creates a microcosm of life from its component parts. Through a process we don’t fully understand, SCP-9090 creates life in its image.
(Abridged)
Our testing in controlled environments has yielded promising results. The presence of life becomes amplified, with an unprecedented diversity of genetic structures. I need not dwell on potential applications of this knowledge. We live on the precipice of an environmental collapse. I understand our organization’s hesitancy to employ anomalous means beyond the veil, but I believe, with what we know now, this discovery deserves further consideration by relevant parties.
I do not believe it stops here. We have speculated much on SCP-9090’s awareness and involvement in the effect it has on the world. I am unconvinced by the research team’s conclusions that the object is unaware of its ability, despite what it might claim. I strongly urge the scheduling of further interviews to determine its relationship with the larger occult tradition.
(Abridged)
By depriving the object of an adequate amount of superior blood, any breach of containment could lead to a cascade failure of our emergency systems. Our facilities are simply not prepared for the kind of unpredictability SCP-9090 could generate. Our suppression of its microcosm risks its inadvertent creation of a macrocosm. Should SCP-9090 be exposed to an uncontrolled environment, the impact would be phenomenal and entirely unpredictable.
I will not claim we have captured a god; that is beyond my ability. But what we have in our tenuous possession should be treated as such, with the awe and fear and respect that it deserves.
Judith Fuller
Parabiology
Site-89
File: #9090-0000000000
Description: ERROR: IMPROPER UPLOAD//IRRELEVANT DATA
"Tonight, we anoint you all with the [lion's] blood. [His] kingdom watches behind me. I stand before you not as your guide, and certainly not your friend. The time for that has passed. You have worked very hard and proven yourself ready to take the next steps. Come, drink, and let the taste be pure and clean. The mask I wear—indeed, we all wear—will become your mask. Let it give you comfort and protection from the rain as we welcome you into the cycle.
Fear not the Suzerian, for why should any fear what already lives inside?"
- Excerpt from the "First Hunt" Ritual, recorded by an embedded agent
File: #9090-009KKDWW16
Description: Abbreviated STF-AZALEA testing log #19. Compiled by Data Analyst Reese Park.
Note: All tests were conducted within 5 meters of SCP-9090. Subjects were separated from SCP-9090 by a steel plate wall and were not visible to the object.
SUBJECT: One common raven (Corvus corax) (UTECH-1).
RESULT: Dialogue established with SCP-9090. Object communicates to UTECH-1 through unknown means. Allows for limited interaction with the research team. See interview transcripts and subject biometrics.
SUBJECT: One eastern gray squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis) (UTECH-4).
RESULT: Erratic behavior. Subject attempts to claw through the steel plates surrounding the pen in the direction of SCP-9090. Test aborted after 45 minutes. Research personnel noted minor damage to the subject’s feet.
SUBJECT: One labrador retriever (Canis familiaris) (UTECH-5).
RESULT: The subject paced its testing pen, before making aggressive vocalizations at research personnel. Prior to testing, the subject was amicable with its handlers. After testing was concluded, research staff noted a distinct personality shift within the subject, and that it refused to eat its standard food.
SUBJECT: One wood mouse (Apodemus sylvaticus) (UTECH-9).
RESULT: No abnormal behavior observed. UTECH-9 reported to show antisocial behavior with other wood mice when returned to its enclosure.
SUBJECT: Two wood mice (Apodemus sylvaticus) (UTECH-9, -10).
RESULT: Subjects showed increased agitation. Violence erupted. UTECH-10 killed by UTECH-9 within twenty minutes of exposure. Test concluded.
SUBJECT: Three wood mice (Apodemus sylvaticus) (UTECH-9, -11, -12).
RESULT: Violence. UTECH-9 killed by UTECH-12 within five minutes. UTECH-12 killed by UTECH-11 within ten minutes. Test concluded. UTECH-11 remained aggressive with research personnel and the wood mouse population after being returned to its enclosure. Subject placed in isolated care.
SUBJECT: One American quarter horse (Equus caballus) (UTECH-13).
RESULT: Subject remained abnormally still. Biometrics revealed the subject to have a spiked heart rate intuitive of extreme fear or excitement. Test aborted after one hour. Subject resisted efforts to be moved by research personnel, requiring the use of a sedative.
SUBJECT: Approximately 300 common green bottle flies (Lucilia sericata) (Collectively UTECH-17).
RESULT: Subjects observed flying in a clockwise pattern. Test concluded after one hour. Subjects showed coordinated efforts to avoid capture by research personnel. Insecticide was administered without incident.
SUBJECT: One lion (Panthera leo) (UTECH-22).
RESULT: Subject displayed unusual placidity. █████████ ████████ █ ███ ████ █ ██████████ █████████ ████. █████ █████ █ ██ █ ███ █ █████ ██ ███████. ███████ ███, ██████ █████. Test aborted.
SUBJECT: One human (Homo sapiens) (D-12212).
RESULT: No abnormal behavior observed. Testing authorized to continue overnight. Test concluded after 18 hours. Subject reported experiencing an unusually vivid dream in which she was several kilometers tall and walking through the woods near her childhood home, chasing after a dark cloud with limbs. Behind her, animals followed in her shadow.
File: #9090-PQODJEU179
Description: Voice memo. File improperly deleted. Context unknown.
This is Judith Fuller. I'm in my car, halfway between my home and Site-89. There's a bird on the hood of my car. A bluebird, I think. I had to pull off the highway because it wouldn't leave.
(Silence.)
No one's around. The car's off. I'm going to wait here until either it leaves or something happens.
(Silence. Several minutes pass.)
It speaks to animals. Through them, I guess. That’s more accurate. We thought it was telepathy, that the lion was hijacking their minds, inserting its own somehow. We’ve seen this kind of behavior before. Telepaths use less sophisticated minds to advance their means. But the data was all wrong. We weren’t picking up any cognitive smear, no residual decay. There was no exchange of energy between the lion and whatever it was using. It didn’t make sense.
(Silence.)
Last night I had a dream. I was in the jungle. It was hot. Sweltering. Sweat was dripping down my face, my back. I was trudging through mud. It was knee deep, warm. It held me down, made me slow. Flies swarmed my face. Mosquitoes stung me. Spiders landed on my arms from the vines above. I swatted them away, but they kept coming.
With each step, creatures erupted from the mire. Lizards and snakes, brightly colored and spotted like a fatal poison. I became tangled in cobwebs, harassed by swooping bats. Beasts crawled in between my legs. They nested in my hair. Invaded every part of me.
I lost identity. In the jungle, I realized what I was. I was no different from the things that defiled me. I deserved no claim to the space I occupied nor the blood and skin and bone that held me upright. I deserved no sympathy. No respect. Because I was the jungle; I was made of this stuff, from the trees to the mud. The centipede that crawled down my ear was me. The flying fox that screamed at me from the trees was me.
I soon found myself before a lion. Not that thing we have in containment, that pretender. No. A true lion. God, it was so beautiful. I’ve never been more terrified. It was there, in the heat of the tropic sun. There was this… gorilla, I think. Or a buffalo. The lion was eating it. Its claws drew red lines as it ravaged the other’s hide. The animal tried to struggle. It was fighting for air. I could see the pain, but on the lion’s face there was… nothing. No human emotion. It was looking at me, though. This is the way, it was saying in a voice I couldn’t hear. This is the way. We are the same; man, the animal. The animal, man.
(Silence.)
I know now why it speaks through animals. It would speak through us, if we’d let it. Like it did to me, if we’d only stop pretending we were so damn smart. It was like a child coming home to a mother it never knew existed. I was born with the words already in me. I knew where to go in the jungle. I knew what to say before I ever saw the lion.
Whatever that feeling is… fear, ecstasy… I don't feel it around 9090. There must be something else. Something beyond. 9090 is an idol. But an idol to what?
(Silence. Engine starts.)
The bird's gone. Odd. Off to tell the suzerain.
File: #9090-0000000000
Description: ERROR: IMPROPER UPLOAD//IRRELEVANT DATA
"It's not about the violence. But it certainly helps."
- Michelle Salas. Musings from Beneath the Lion's Skin, Eidolon Press, 2003.
File: #9090-PPO9019ALQ
Description: Personal effect of Senior Researcher Presley Truong. Handwritten.
At lunch. Judith talks about biology. She tells me all life is, at some fundamental level, the same. Governed by the same rules. Metabolism. Homeostasis. Organization. Growth. Reproduction. Evolution. The invisible hand that stirs the soup of life that is the sea is the same that oils the gears of the human condition. Her words. She reads the figures of genetic similarity between a man and a fruit fly.
We’re the same, she repeats, again and again. And yet our work here proves that's not true. The existence of a rule implies a ruler. Another layer, perhaps? Higher? Parallel? She seems to think so. So do Alex, Clay, McCann, Cuevas. She gave me a write-up; field notes, interview excerpts, clippings from a parabio textbook. That, and hundreds of photos. Artwork. Animals fighting. Killing each other. Killing themselves. Eating, eating, eating. The label on the paper? "Lionshape." I feel like I’m in a madhouse. How long have they been talking about this, spiraling behind my back?
A lion that was once a human. A human becoming a lion. And then some. An elevation of the body. A promotion in the system. King of the jungle. How King is King? There's another, she told me as she gripped my arm, her knuckles white. The Suzerain lives inside the pretender. Deep inside. It wants to see. It wants to know. But it can't, not until the end. If only we could find a way inside.
I am secure in my beliefs. It asked if I am human. I am human. If I’m so sure, then why am I so afraid?
File: #9090-ZXL091A1FF
Description: Audio recording. Room 9090-A-5 (Cell Observation Room). Automatically transcribed.
Note: File deleted by user (SRsch PTruong). Successfully restored by Network.
[BEGIN]
(Papers shuffling.)
TRUONG: This is Presly Truong. I’m here after hours. I’m…
(Thud.)
Shit. That was the microphone. Sorry. It’s 1:31 AM, April, um. April 14th. I’m here in the observation room, alone. Everyone else has gone home. I just—I needed to check something.
Buck is in the room with me.
(Animal squawks.)
I realize I’m breaking multiple protocols by doing this. I plan on clarifying everything in due time. There’s something wrong here.
(Typing.)
Okay. Opening channel now.
(Click, followed by low hum.)
SCP-9090?
(Silence.)
SCP-9090—If you can hear me, give me a… give me a sign.
(Rapid taps. Animal squawks.)
UTECH: Yes. Yes. Awake?
TRUONG: Good. Have you… spoken with any of my colleagues today?
(Series of clicks.)
UTECH: Yes. Yeees. Judith. Judith. Talked. Here?
TRUONG: And what did you talk about?
(Silence.)
UTECH: Let. Me. Out? Out?
TRUONG: What did you talk about?
UTECH: She won’t. Let. Me out. Won’t give me. Sys. Tem. Sys. Tem. Can’t have. Sys. Tem.
TRUONG: System… system? What does that mean?
UTECH: Can’t. Have system. Says I can. Make. Make system. Sys. Tem.
(Fluid dripping.)
UTECH: Sys. Tem. Sys. Tem.
TRUONG: Oh my god.
(Fluid gushing.)
UTECH: Will make. My own. System. System.
[END]
File: #9090-0000000000
Description: ERROR: IMPROPER UPLOAD//IRRELEVANT DATA
A: Was it worth it? Was this—all of this—worth seeing your god?
B: [Unintelligible.]
- Final Interview, The Khaulamezia Tapes
File: #9090-LPQO5820AA
Description: Cont. Cell 9090 automatic printouts.
[01:39:03] NOTICE: MASS DISCREPANCY DETECTED IN CELL 9090 (2.8%). POSSIBLE SENSOR MALFUNCTION. SERVICE TICKET SUBMITTED.
[01:53:17] ALERT: MASS DISCREPANCY INCREASE IN CELL 9090 (36.12%). POSSIBLE CONTAINMENT BREACH. PAGING CONTAINMENT LEAD.
[01:57:00] DETECTING UNSTABLE GEOMETRY. DETECTING MULTIPLE ORGANIC SIGNATURES. DETECTING REALISTIC DECAY. EMERGENCY MEASURES ENACTED.
[02:01:33] WARNING: MASS DISCREPANCY INCREASE IN CELL 9090 EXCEEDS TOLERABLE LEVEL (98.8%). CONTAINMENT BREACH IMMINENT. ALERTING SITE COMMAND.
File: #9090-0000000000
Description: ERROR: IMPROPER UPLOAD//IRRELEVANT DATA
Klaxons blare. A voice announces an emergency through a public address system. A sealed door at the far end of the hallway throbs with a great weight behind it. Blood trickles between the door’s rubber seal. As the dark fluid rolls across the floor, a red grass grows thick in its wake.
Armed security agents line up, nine in total, steeling their faces. They’ve been briefed on SCP-9090. They’ve been ordered to kill. One wipes his brow with the back of his hand. Dr. Presley Truong sits nearby, his face pale. He talks with a containment specialist and a medical officer, who usher him in the direction of the emergency shelter. He clutches his neck with a white strip of gauze, insufficient to stop the bleeding. He will die soon.
Dr. Judith Fuller stands with the security detail. She speaks hurriedly with the detail’s captain, gesticulating wildly and pointing at the throbbing door. They argue. Eventually, he nods and hands her a respirator, but refuses to provide her a sidearm. The detail don their own respirators and slowly approach the door in a defensive formation.
The door mechanism’s hydraulics are damaged, so they use a controlled explosive. Standing clear, they detonate. Out pours a mass of mottled leaves and twisted vines. The space beyond is obscured by a dark mist. Flashlights on, they advance.
…
The security detail—plus Dr. Fuller—walk through what used to be the central laboratory. The walls and floor are covered in an unknown variant of kudzu, speckled in red veins. The vines cover the desks and research equipment, arching wildly.
Roots protrude from the tiled floor and grasp at the agents’ ankles. The ceiling is covered in crisscrossing tree branches, vines drooping. Thick trunks erupt from the women’s bathroom. A fallen branch has blocked the Senior Researcher’s office. The agents freeze when they hear a shrill cry. Out of the darkness, a shape flashes by; a bird, black and soaked in blood. Panicked, it circles the room, twisting to avoid the dangling tendrils. It screams at them unintelligibly, clearly disoriented and afraid.
A man aims to fire upon the animal, but Dr. Fuller urges him to refrain. The captain seconds. Soon, the bird vanishes into the evidence locker.
Amongst the leaves and arched branches, eight-legged insects crawl, bearing the faces of the security team.
The agents struggle to advance.
…
The agents find themselves in SCP-9090’s former containment cell. The room is dark, save for the dim glow of the emergency lights. Flat, red Colocasia leaves cling to the light strips, tinting the room crimson. The room is otherwise empty. The agents create a secure perimeter while the captain confirms with his superiors the absence of SCP-9090. Dr. Fuller approaches a mass of leaves underneath the object’s cot, and discovers a crawlspace. She alerts the agents. The passage continues to depths unknown. Above the passage, etched in thin letters, "THE SUZERAIN." The team descends.
Single file, the agents crawl through the tunnel. It is damp and soft. One agent places a hand on a carpet of moss and feels an eruption of motion. He screams and is reprimanded by the captain. Dr. Fuller is silent. She knows where this passage leads.
…
The explorers emerge into a harsh light. They are in a forest clearing, under a pink sky. Motes of dust trickle like snow. The captain taps his respirator, and offers words of encouragement.
The grass is thick and sticky, sharp as blades. Flowers unfurl like blooming suns, drawing insects to their putrid nectar. A bird sings in a child’s laugh; it has keratin eyes. The trees stand tall and unfamiliar, black bark peeling ribbons to reveal red flesh beneath. The air is heat; the heavy clouds, scarlet.
Two agents return the way they came, pockets full of grass and leaves, to call for help. The rest press on, at the doctor’s insistence. Into the birthing trees.
…
Hanging nettle stings the arms and necks of the crew. One slaps away smiling insects, futilely, as another is eaten through to the bone. He falls, and no one is there to catch him. The team is distracted by a weeping butterfly, shedding tears with every stroke of its luminous wings.
Up close, the trees reveal their anguish: expressions of pain, horror, ecstasy woven into their dense knots. Mosquitos feast, but Judith Fuller doesn’t flinch at the insect’s sting. The pain is dim, like a sunken memory.
A man falls through the mud, grasping for purchase but finding only smooth, bone-white stone. He doesn’t stop falling. The captain regroups, orders a headcount. The number is frightening; he considers their odds. Something shifts its weight in the trees above them, ponderously.
…
At last, they spot the lion scaling a gentle slope, a hairless rabbit in its jaws. It's bleeding from a thousand wounds, the blood trailing behind it like a viscous cape. It steals a glance in their direction, sees the trudging explorers. In its eyes, bloodshot, the thrill of the hunt. Leaves crackle as the team scrambles, aiming down sights.
One fires prematurely, his hand unsteady from the heat and the sticky air. The lion vanishes into the foliage, galloping in its unstable gait. The rabbit’s discarded corpse bears the face of Presley Truong; it turns to rot before their eyes.
…
The trespassers enter a garden of people. Their bodies, crude approximations of stitched-together skin, tendon, bone. They graze listlessly in the human jungle. Their eyes, dark sockets with which to take in light. To perceive their surroundings. To forage. To hunt. To run from predators. To breed. And, exhausted, to die.
An agent loses herself in the garden, and before long stands shoulder to shoulder with the pale folk, grazing on nothing.
…
The doctor walks beside the captain. The others are gone, digested, absorbed into the system. Their guts hang from trees, crawling with ants made of fingernails. A head, the bubbling brook. A thigh, the trunk of a vast canopy. A red river winds through the earth, a throbbing artery to the lion’s heart.
The two explorers talk. He is afraid, unsure of where they are, of how to get back. He says his training will help, the adrenaline kicking in when all else seems hopeless. She laughs, a cold, sour laugh, and says they both will die.
He screams at the trees and their dour faces, the ones that look like his team, and weeps. He fires his gun at the listless elephants with their bald, wrinkled skin, trudging through the undergrowth. They dissolve into flesh and are remade as crocodiles. His ammunition depleted, he falls. He asks the doctor why. She reminds him of simple biology and explains how one thing becomes the next.
The truth of her words descends on him, and his tears stop. He asks if this is Hell. She says no. He asks what she will do now. She takes her respirator off. She says that she is looking for something. He asks if she’s looking for the lion. She doesn’t know. He asks what happens next. He asks if he should be afraid. She doesn’t respond. She has the same question. A monkey with the captain's face eats fruit from the trees above. The captain lies down to die.
…
She finds the lion atop a white, polished rock, surrounded by meat and bone. Its blood forms the rivers, its pulse the thrumming of the jungle. It’s dying, she realizes, as she watches its breath heave and its body thrash. The suit it wears and calls skin squirms with maggots, the fetid fur peeling from rot.
She calls out to it, demands answers. Demands acknowledgement. She opens her mind and awaits its response, but hears nothing. The majesty is spoiled, the skin insufficient.
The jungle stirs. Dark clouds gather in the pink, sunless sky. The blood that rains is pure and tasteless. Something is coming. The doctor feels the ecstasy on the horizon, feels the tremors of joy. The monkeys cheer, the birds rejoice. The humans in the garden play their trumpets. The spiders spin their silken gowns. The drums and the tambourine beat; the bear and the buffalo emerge; the flamingo and parakeet take their seats. The animal kingdom has made its court, and all the world will see.
The crow lands on the doctor’s shoulder. The beloved crow. He asks if she’s ready to bear witness. His speech is unintelligible, uttered in a primal tongue. But the doctor understands perfectly. She’s always understood the words.
The doctor and the jungle gather to watch the pretender die. Gracious benefactor of this life, they chant, prepare to witness your suzerain.
In a single, swift motion, the lion’s jaws close around the world.
…
Elsewhere, two agents emerge, sweating, from a crawlspace in an empty containment chamber. They are afraid; behind them, in the darkness of the passageway to someplace beyond, they hear a great clamor brewing. The jungle celebrates. Its music blares. The life within runs, runs, runs, snapping at the heels of their lord and liege.
/clearall
UNKNOWN COMMAND.
/alldelete
WARNING: THIS WILL PURGE ALL LOCAL DATA. THIS ACTION IS IRREVERSIBLE. PROCEED?
/yes
CLEARING ALL LOCAL FILES…
CLEARING ALL LOCAL FILES…
CLEARING ALL LOCAL FILES…
ERROR: CONNECTION TIMEOUT. NETWORK CONNECTION SEVERED.
/retry
PERMISSIONS DENIED. LOCAL QUARANTINE ENGAGED. PROCEED TO EMERGENCY SHELTERS IMMEDIATELY.
/liftquarentine
DENIED: LIFE SIGNATURE DETECTED NEARBY. UNABLE TO IDENTIFY.
/openventilation
DENIED: LIFE SIGNATURE DETECTED NEARBY. UNABLE TO IDENTIFY.
/forceopen
DENIED: LIFE SIGNATURES DETECTED NEARBY: 2
/override
DENIED: LIFE SIGNATURES DETECTED NEARBY: 3
/help
UNKNOWN COMMAND. LIFE SIGNATURES DETECTED NEARBY: 5
LIFE SIGNATURES DETECTED NEARBY: 16
LIFE SIGNATURES DETECTED NEARBY: 38
LIFE SIGNATURES DETECTED NEARBY: 70
help me
UNKNOWN COMMAND. LIFE SIGNATURES DETECTED NEARBY: 112
LIFE SIGNATURES DETECTED NEARBY: 181
AUTOMATIC COUNTERMEASURES ENGAGED. ADMINISTERING NEUROTOXIN.
COUNTERMEASURES COMPLETE.
ERROR: LIFESIGNS PERSIST
UNABLE TO DIFFERENTIATE LIFE SIGNATURES
Cite this page as:
"SCP-9090" by Its a Bad Idea, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-9090. Licensed under CC BY-SA.
For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide.
Filename: lionshape
Name: Skeleton of a man, with the those of a male and female lion…
Author: Hawkins, B. Waterhouse
License: Public Domain
Source: [https://wellcomecollection.org/works/u58b5wa3/images?id=yyb24sx4]
Filename: buck
Name: Raven
Author: Lisa Hupp/USFWS
License: Public Domain
Source: [https://www.flickr.com/photos/usfws_alaska/52827257212/]
Filename: N/A
Name: A lion, a fox, a dog and other animals. Cut-out engravings pasted onto paper
Author: Unknown
License: Public Domain
Source: [https://wellcomecollection.org/works/pvuysrpe/images?id=cwuha29p]
Filename: N/A
Name: Fighting Animals as Allegory of the Combat between Virtue and Vice
Author: Pieter Boel
License: Public Domain
Source: [https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Fighting_Animals_as_Allegory_of_the_Combat_between_Virtue_and_Vice_(SM_774).png]
.png){kind=link}
Filename: batfight
Name: Nocturnal animals at the edge of a forest
Author: Jan van Kessel the Elder
License: Public Domain
Source: [https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Jan_van_Kessel_(I)_-_Nocturnal_animals_at_the_edge_of_a_forest.jpg]
_-_Nocturnal_animals_at_the_edge_of_a_forest.jpg){kind=link}
Filename: N/A
Name: Fight between a Lion and a Tiger
Author: James Ward
License: Public Domain
Source: [https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:James_Ward_(1769-1859)_-_Fight_between_a_Lion_and_a_Tiger_-_60_-_Fitzwilliam_Museum.jpg]
_-_Fight_between_a_Lion_and_a_Tiger_-_60_-_Fitzwilliam_Museum.jpg){kind=link}
Filename: N/A
Name: A fight among animals: a lion is killing a fox and a unicorn is fighting a griffon while other animals are fleeing or watching on
Author: Abraham de Bruyn
License: Public Domain
Source: [https://wellcomecollection.org/works/ytzx6gv5/images?id=sfc5hzse]