It's dark.
It's been that way for what feels like hours. You can't sleep. Your cellmate is snoring loudly. The guard just walked by two minutes ago and won't be back for another half hour. You sit up and look around, your eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darkness. As you do, you notice something.
Between the cracks in the wall, there is a dim light blocked by a small object. You extend your arm to it wearily, reaching into the crack. You feel the material. It's toilet paper. You hold it up against the dim light coming from outside and notice that it has something written on it.
With nothing else to do, you begin to read it.
My name is Arturo Gabriel Alvarez Jimenez.
If you are reading this, chances are you are in the same situation I was in; desperate for an escape. Hell, you must be desperate if you're looking in the cracks in the wall for hidden messages. I'm sorry you have to be here.
Are you innocent? I know I am. My only crime was daring to oppose a fascist.
Your eyes strain in the dark, trying to read ahead. This must have been written by a D-Class before you, a political prisoner about forty years ago, if he's talking about Pinochet. Amazing to think that no one else has discovered this object in the four decades since then. Maybe you're lucky.
Although you can't be too lucky, you're still stuck here.
You keep reading.
Maybe you've heard of me. I'm an artist from Santiago who dared to show the people of Chile that Pinochet would be toppled one day, and that our nation would prosper. I did it the only way I knew how; art.
I used my gift to see into the future. I saw that when confronted by the press over his mass graves, he said they were an "efficient means of burying people." I saw that he was arrested by the Brits. I saw that he was laid low. So I sculpted what I saw.
And you know what he did to me for my troubles?
He fed me to the Foundation for dissenting.
I had a wife. I had a son. I had a home. But all that has been taken away from me. All I have known in the last two months is the cold concrete that is this cell. My soul yearns for freedom, my body longs for reprieve from this torment, my heart wishes to return to my family.
But, really, it's not all bad.
So the man was an artist. Of course, he was. Artists always have a flair for the dramatic. But could he really see the future? Or was this someone full of shit from the present?
Your cellmate turns in his sleep.
Now that you think about it, you've heard something about magical artists from the scientists you're around all day. You struggle to think of their name, but nothing comes to mind. There's a lot of things you've had to struggle to understand ever since you came under Foundation control.
Your cellmate snores loudly again.
You roll your eyes and read on.
I have devised a way to escape.
How, you may ask? Well, I regret to inform you, my friend, that this will come at a cost. Don't worry, you won't feel a thing, though I have never traveled both ways at once before. I'm excited to see what happens. Anyway, I do think having to adjust to the times will be better than serving out a full sentence, no?
I thank you for your selfless sacrifice to help me.
SCP-L056
Item #: SCP-L056
Object Class: Concluded
Special Containment Procedures: Direct containment of SCP-L056 is unnecessary.
Description: SCP-L056 refers to the spontaneous disappearance of D-6035 (Arturo Gabriel Alvarez Jimenez) from Facility-57 on September 4, 1975. The subject was observed to dematerialize in his cell prior to being selected for daily experimentation. Alvarez reportedly taunted guards and other D-Class personnel before disappearing completely.
Immediately after Alvarez's disappearance, an unknown male manifested in the cell. The subject expressed confusion and was in distress. Following a brief interview, amnestics were administered and the subject was released.
UPDATE L056.1: On September 4, 2025, D-7653 (Alberto Juan Carlos Batista De la Cruz) was reported to have disappeared from his cell in circumstances similar to SCP-L056. Foundation records indicate that both D-Class personnel occupied the same cell before disappearing. Both disappearances are similar in nature, but it was noted that Batista's disappearance left behind a long sheet of toilet paper that possessed high residual Hume count readings.
Investigations into the current location of Batista are ongoing.