KaktusKontainer I

Illustration of SCP-XXXX. See Addendum XXXX.X for details.

Item #: SCP-XXXX

Object Class: Uncontained

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is currently uncontained. Attempts to contain SCP-XXXX are ongoing. Research into possible containment methods for SCP-XXXX is ongoing.

Individuals affected by SCP-XXXX are to be moved to DEEPWELL Area-201 for analysis. There is currently no method by which to resist the effects of SCP-XXXX.

Description: SCP-XXXX is an uncontained anomalous entity, potentially memetic in origin, which exists solely in metaphysical space created by sleeping beings. SCP-XXXX’s motivations are difficult to discern, though its effect on the consciousnesses and biology of affected individuals is tangible; whether this is an unintentional side-effect of its existence or hostile activity is currently unknown.

SCP-XXXX’s appearance persists across dreams experienced by multiple subjects. SCP-XXXX is described as a tall, skeletal figure with no discernible facial features wrapped in a tattered cloth and wearing a tattered, wide-brimmed hat. SCP-XXXX is also described as carrying a burlap sack full of seeds, though the full purpose of this is unknown. SCP-XXXX is capable of speaking to individuals within whose dreams it interacts with, though these individuals are unable to describe the voice and occasionally have difficulty describing the message that SCP-XXXX imparts when it speaks.

SCP-XXXX’s effect on individuals it interacts with presents in an invariable pattern of events:

Individuals who are affected will first experience a profoundly vivid dream, the subject of which varies, but will include the presence of SCP-XXXX, usually at the end of the dream, on the outskirts of the dream space.
Every time the subject sleeps after initial contact, regardless of the length of the sleeping period, they will continue to experience vivid dreams involving the presence of SCP-XXXX. These dreams will, over time, become increasingly desolate, with prolonged observation of SCP-XXXX becoming a more frequent occurrence. This is typically followed by irritability in the subject, as well as feelings of paranoia and unease during waking hours.
At some point in the progression1 of these effects, the subject will enter a dream in which they are standing in a barren field. SCP-XXXX will be walking across the field, scattering seeds from its burlap sack, and will address the subject directly. Upon waking, the subject will begin to experience severe headaches, loss of vision, nausea, vertigo, and extreme paranoia and depersonalization. Subjects will begin to experience hallucinations of SCP-XXXX, even while waking, and will become increasingly agitated until the conclusion of these effects.

In 99.7% of subject2 analyzed using radiographic imaging, a small, hard seed will appear within the subject’s brain, likely the cause of the aforementioned neurological afflictions. Over the next several weeks, many small plant-like growths will begin to spread out of this seed, filling the spaces within the brain and within the cranial cavity, before eventually exiting the body through the eyes, nostrils, ears, and mouth.

These growths, which are grey in appearance and composed of biological matter not found elsewhere on Earth, will continue to spread across the subject’s body until the subject dies. This process, however, may still take months; the growths tend to avoid affecting the body in such a way that would result in its immediate death. Instead, they will fill all of the empty space within the body and, once having done so, anchor the now paralyzed subject to the nearest solid surface. These growths are animate and react with hostility towards being disturbed, and are capable of expelling vapors that are toxic to humans and other biological life.

Addendum XXXX.1: Discovery - Dream Log XXXX.909.1

Note: The following is a standard dream log filed by Dr. Isaiah Hostetler, the first human believed to be affected by SCP-XXXX, after an interaction with SCP-990.


I am standing in the parlor of my parents’ old home, in Maine. They have some guests over, but I don’t recognize many of the faces. I smile and greet people and serve drinks and worry about whether the food will be ready or not, and then a phone rings. When I pick it up, a voice on the other end says “come upstairs.”

I leave the parlor and move towards the stairwell. In the real world it was this huge, sweeping staircase that some Italian carpenter had built for my great-grandfather a hundred years ago, but now it’s different; a single spiraling staircase, no wider than I am, with no arm rail. It descends up into the ceiling and I can’t see how high it goes. I hear the phone ring in the other room and am suddenly aware that there aren’t any more people around. I look out a window and see fields, which I don’t realize is out of the ordinary. That house overlooked the bay.

I begin to walk up the staircase, but I can’t find my footing. I take several steps, and then several more back down, and I begin to feel very afraid. The phone is still ringing, louder, and now I’m standing in the house after it burned down. The staircase in front of me is unchanged, but now it just keeps rising up into the sky. The ruins are surrounded by fields that stretch out for an eternity.

I start to climb again, and as I rise up the steps I can see a figure in the distance. I can’t make it out. It’s moving towards the house.

I don’t know how long I climb. Eventually I see him. SCP-990 is standing next to a telephone, and I realize it’s the same phone I answered earlier in the parlor. We’re in the parlor. He comes up to me and I can see him, plain as day. He looks afraid. He says “Did you see it?” When I tell him I don’t know what he’s talking about, he recoils. “Blighted seed breeds blighted crop,” he says, his eyes growing wider.

He leans in very close to me, staring at my eyes. “Listen to me,” he says, “a nightmare festers in the field. Their all-seeing eye passed over the empty cell. Even the Reaper fears what is being sown.” He produces a knife, and begins to carve a symbol I can’t see into his chest. “The dreamwalkers are fleeing. They would be like smoke before a cyclone. Take his,” he hands me the knife, “you cannot stop its advance. If it sees you, cut out your eyes. The road through the field will be lined with corpses, but it may give you enough time. Time to escape, whether by foot or by a blade.”

The room around us is suddenly collapsing. The house is on fire. In the distance I see a figure swaying in the field. Nine-ninety grabs me. “The blighted seed breed blighted crop,” he says. “It is too late for you. Take the knife. Give the others time. He is coming. He is coming.”

I ask him who, but he’s gone. His hat is burning on a coat rack near the door. I hear a long, low sound coming from the field. I turn to look, and I wake up.

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