Title: SCP-4XXX — Bleeding Beneath Antarctica
Item #: SCP-3XXX
Object Class: Euclid Keter
Special Containment Procedures: Research Station-05 has been built directly above SCP-3XXX-A. Muon detectors, spread out over a 10km radius, will monitor muon emissions from SCP-3XXX-A and report any irregularities in the anomaly's behavior. At least one boring probe and an ice sheet drilling mechanism will be kept at the station in the event that investigation of SCP-3XXX-A is necessary.
Contact will be maintained with all Foundation and non-Foundation research stations in Antarctica for reports of SCP-3XXX-B manifestations. If a manifestation is reported, personnel at the station are advised to monitor the manifestation and resultant SCP-3XXX-C instances. Objects left by instances after expiring will be brought into containment at the nearest Foundation facility. Mobile Task Force Xi-1 ("Dispatch from Miskatonic") will be deployed for containment if necessary. Non-Foundation personnel that witness these anomalies will be administered appropriate amnestics when they leave Antarctica.
Update: Based on the events of October 2019, SCP-3XXX has been reclassified. Lunar Area-32, Lunar Area-13, and Martian Area-01 will remain on watch for further potentially relevant anomalous events (refer to Addendum.2 for further information).
Description: SCP-3XXX is the collective designation for two subterranean artificial structures (SCP-3XXX-A and SCP-3XXX-B) of unknown origin and a collection of anomalous organisms (SCP-3XXX-C) present in East Antarctica.
SCP-3XXX-A is located 3,400m below the Antarctic Plateau1, buried in the bedrock under the East Antarctic Ice Sheet. SCP-3XXX-A is likely mechanical in nature, possessing undetermined anomalous properties. The object's depth renders it undetectable by ice-penetrating radar, preventing full analysis of its appearance and size. Current size estimates include a minimum width of 20km. SCP-3XXX-A continually emits high energy muons, which penetrate through the East Antarctic Ice Sheet and decay into other subatomic particles in the upper atmosphere. As drilling investigations to examine the structure invariably end in failure (refer to Discovery), no further information on SCP-3XXX-A is known.
SCP-3XXX-B is a cylindrical tunnel constructed from a rhodium-platinum alloy, with a 11m interior radius. The tunnel extends for 39m before reaching a sharp vertical drop, which descends for an unknown distance, estimated to be a minimum of 3,000m. SCP-3XXX-B will manifest in a region of the Antarctic Plateau on a bimonthly basis, appearing to rise out of the terrain until a majority of its entrance is exposed.2 A variable number of SCP-3XXX-C instances will then exit, often between one or seven. After a period of time ranging from eight hours to three days, SCP-3XXX-B will demanifest, retracting into the ground. Connection with tracking devices placed on the structure during demanifestation are all lost after two hours, preventing observation of SCP-3XXX-B's relocation.
The body structure of SCP-3XXX-C instances can vary, though consistent details have been determined. These details are as follows:
- 1m tall upright conical bodies, with the main body and each limb segmented in a manner similar to arthropods. The main body is divided into three sections.
- Four or more legs attached to the base of the body.
- Variable numbers of 3m long tendrils on the body's midsection, each ending in a claw.
- A toroidal mass covered in small, unknown biological structures, affixed around the top of the body. Presumed to be a form of sensory organ.
- A set of mandibles on the bottom of the cone.
Instances possess psionic abilities, normally used in the manipulation of objects and surroundings. Limited telepathic communication has occurred with researchers on occasion.
Notable anatomical deviations have included the following:
- Tumorous growths that emit high levels of heat.
- Large conical protrusions that open to release mechanical equipment, often in damaged or broken states. Functional ones are equipped with devices that retrieve data on the environment (atmospheric gas concentrations, the strength of Earth's magnetic field, radiation levels, etc.).
- A spherical machine replacing the top cone section, covered in antenna and sensory devices that can detect electromagnetic radiation, ectoplasm, and thaumaturgic particles.
- Devices serving as flamethrowers built into the middle body section, used to melt snow and ice.
Following SCP-3XXX-B manifestation, SCP-3XXX-C instances will attempt to construct makeshift structures out of any surrounding materials, presumed to serve as crude buildings. Instances typically expire in a few hours from environmental factors, though ones brought into containment have average lifespans of 11 hours. All organic matter on the instances will then dissolve into a bright pink fluid (hereafter referred to as haemorozin).
Discovery: The first reports of SCP-3XXX are from 1919, when an Antarctic expedition lead by former British naval officer Dayton Bannard repeatedly encountered SCP-3XXX-B and SCP-3XXX-C instances.3 Accounts of SCP-3XXX-B manifestations continued after the first Antarctic research stations were established, leading to SCP-3XXX-B and SCP-3XXX-C being classified as anomalies in 2000.
SCP-3XXX-A came to the attention of the Foundation in March of 2019, when Foundation personnel operating at Research Outpost-02 in the Antarctic Plateau detected abnormal muon emissions originating from an underground location. Based on Foundation simulations of Earth's tectonic plate movement, it was determined that this could be the possible location of a ring-shaped lake depicted on SCP-2651-A, presuming it was not destroyed by geologic activity and prehistoric K-Class events after ~700 million years. Plans for excavation were proposed when the source of the emissions was narrowed to a region 10km in radius.4
In June of 2019 a specialized boring probe was sent through the ice sheet and drilled into the bedrock, attaining a depth of 3,400m before entering a cavern with an oxygen-rich atmosphere and contacting a metal surface. Images from the probe show the surface to be covered in an array of mechanical appendages that were in the process of excavating the cavern ceiling. All readings from the probe were lost an hour after contact. Retrieval attempts failed due to the sudden collapse of the sub-bedrock section of the borehole and the formation of frozen haemorozin within the main drilling mechanism. All subsequent drilling investigations have experienced similar outcomes.
SCP-3XXX-A was registered as an anomaly in August of 2019. Of note is that the number of recorded SCP-3XXX-B manifestations has increased since the first drilling investigation.
Addendum.1: Dayton Bannard Journal Excerpts
The following are relevant excerpts from the personal journal of Dayton Bannard, written during his expedition to reach the South Pole. Bannard failed to keep dates for a majority of entries, though these excerpts are suspected to have been written during spring of early 1919. The full journal is available in Document Rec/Bannard/002.
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Searching for Giles was a fruitless endeavor. The snow had been piling up for hours, ruining any footprints, and not a soul could be seen on the horizon in such heavy blue twilight. I shouted for him in vain attempts before I gave up and went back to base. By the time I returned the snow had piled up high enough by our ramshackle hut that I had to dig my way in.
I shut the door behind me and there was silence. No sounds from any crew members, nor the gusts outside—only the creaks of the wood as I moved. Then I heard it. A constant clicking, that started up, stopped, and kept repeating. I crept towards the main room's entrance, peeking around the corner and suddenly freezing in place. A hole was in one of the walls, fully plugged up with snow, and standing in the center was a beast I can barely begin to describe. Its body was a cone, resting on four spider-like legs, whip like limbs swirling around it, a ring-shaped thing resting on top. I nearly screamed then and there.
My heart was racing as its body swayed and stumbled towards me. I felt a splitting headache and then a voice rang out in my head. This "voice," so much unlike a voice I may as well not describe it as such, said a single word: "home." The beast's body then softened like cracker being dipped in water, collapsing apart into a foul-smelling pink fluid. There was a sudden tremor and then the walls around buckled. I rested in that snow for what felt like an eternity, praying to God.
Once the crew pulled me to my feet they told me that the beast had barged in through the wall while I was out, prompting everyone to hide where they could. Nobody saw what it did before I returned.
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Once we started eating Cy started to panic. He kept asking over and over again if the beast was some type of demon, wondering he heard the voice of the Devil himself (I suspect he heard the same "voice" I did). I wish I had an answer.
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When we had fully awoken, Richards proposed that we go out and find where the beast had come from. We were all apprehensive at first, Cy being the most nervous among us, but after a long discussion we realized we had little else to do until Lewin's crew returns with supplies. When the snow finally stopped piling up we went out to survey the area for any abnormalities.
The first several hours met with no discoveries until I heard Abner hollering by a cave entrance. Nothing peculiar struck me when I first entered, but as I went further I noticed what Abner obsessing over. At the cave's rear, at the bottom of a long downwards incline fashioned into what seemed like a staircase, was a cavernous tunnel, not composed of ice or rock but of perfectly smooth metal the likes of which I have never seen before. It stretched out further than any light could reach. There is no doubt in my mind that this where the beast came from.
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I awoke to the sound of splintering wood and a thunderous crash. The wood that made up much of the hut's ceiling buckled under the weight of continued snowfall and dropped a dense wall of snow into the main room. Thankfully Shelton, who had been sleeping there, was far enough to one side that we were easily able to dig him out. After hours of digging we were able to form tunnels connecting with all areas of the hut, but we know that this will not work as a shelter much longer. Richards has been adamant that we use the cave, stating that it's our only chance at survival. We all wish that didn't have to be the case, but as I look at the walls around me I fear that they will collapse a moment too soon.
In a few hours time the eight of us will hold a vote on our course of action. All I know is that turning back will not be an option.
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We unanimously voted to use the cave. I can tell that none of us are enthused by this (especially Cy, who is failing hiding his nervousness under an emotionless veneer), but by now the den of a monster is more inviting then death under mounds of snow. The snowfall has stopped and we will depart in a few hours time.
So far the tunnel has proven a good fit for our survival. A constant heat flows out of it, warming the air to the point that Richards was able to not wear any protective clothing ten meters into it. None of this air escapes far into the cave, relegating us to an eerie darkness. I've dared not to go near that pit at the tunnel's end. On multiple occasions I swear I've heard clicking noises but whenever I ask it turns out to have only been myself.
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Richards has been acting strangely, a statement that seems redundant but is more true than ever before. Every couple of hours he raps seven times on the tunnel walls, goes out for what he says are brief strolls only to carve more esoteric symbols into the cave's ice. He seems happier than I've ever seen him. I've always thought of him to be a mystic who had largely shed his roots for a nobler, educated life, but now as I watch him I highly doubt this notion.
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As Abner does his best to keep morale up by roping everyone into improvised theatre performances, I find myself going to the edge of the pit, away from the laughter and commotion to sit with my own thoughts. I tossed the small religious pendant Giles left behind in there and carefully listened for it to hit the bottom. A few slight tinks against the metal walls then silence. All I heard was just my heartbeat. The light from the lamp I bring along has barely provided enough to let me see the walls of this massive structure, so I have no idea of how far down it goes.
Occasionally Richards will join me. He silently walks in and sits a bit farther behind me, gazing off into nothing. We've never exchanged a single word here. To us it's a sacred place to be alone with our thoughts, and I dare not disturb that peace for anyone. He's far braver than I am in turning off his lamp when he arrives, though. I always pointlessly fear that at some point that shadows will pull me away, leaving the rest of the crew on their own, and this lamp is my safeguard against it. Or perhaps I worry that in the darkness I'll stumble and fall to my death. Whatever the reason, with this light I make the things we've I've seen on the voyage feel less real.
We woke up to find that Richards was gone. His sleeping bag was open with much of his equipment left behind. Abner checked the cave and couldn't find any new marks in the snow, so he had to have still been in the tunnel. After a moment of preparation to retrieve lamps we started going deep into the tunnel. Minutes later I turned around to see that everyone had stopped following me several meters back. I ordered them to come forward but they simply stood there, doing nothing. I decided to go on without them, reaching the edge of the abyss after what felt like hours.
I reached the ledge, solely hearing the rattling of my lamp and my quickening heartbeat. All that I could find was Richard's boots and a single lit lamp. I looked about all over, hoping I would see him elsewhere in the darkness, but he was nowhere. He'd fallen in. I cursed the Heavens and stomped the ground, kicked his lamp in with a great swing of the foot and watched its light tumble down till it vanished. When I came out I told the crew that he'd left without a trace.
Eventually I came to ask why they had stopped following me, despite my clear orders. Quietly, when no-one else would speak, Palmer told me that they had begun fearing for their own lives. They saw one of the beasts clinging to the ceiling directly above me.
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I can't return to the pit anymore. I look down there and swear I see the flickering of light, I look up the walls and swear I see shifting symbols and shapes, and when I close my eyes and look nowhere I still see something. A ring, a halo, suspended in the colorless region under my eyelids. The last time I went to-day I started hearing that God forsaken noise. That clicking of the beasts. I peered past the edge and my lamp snuffed out, whether by my negligence to check the fuel or something else. I stood there for moments, paralyzed, and I came to a terrible realization. Every time I had been here the only sound to keep me company would be my heartbeat and interspersed gaseous noises from the lamp. That sound was not my heartbeat.
I spun around right as the "voices" grew from faint whispers to murmurs and I ran, dropping the lamp and only stopping when I saw the lights of my crew.
To-morrow I will inform the crew of a new rule. Nobody is allowed further than ten meters away from the tunnel entrance. That hole can only lead to further woes.
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When I returned from outside and reached the "stairwell" I saw the crew outside the tunnel, pressing themselves up against the cavern walls to either side of the entrance. I was about to ask what was happening when Palmer signaled me to be quiet and move to the far wall. The crew isn't idiotic so I knew they had a good reason for this, and I quickly followed his command. Silence at first, then scraping, then clicking. I went behind a pillar of ice and peered out to see three beasts climb up the staircase. Two left the cavern while one with massive bulges on its body froze in place. Cracks appeared on one of the bulges and it shattered, dropping out a black sphere. The beast then left to join its companions.
Once I knew they were gone I went to inspect the sphere they left, which had a crude stick figure of a human on it. I tapped it with my foot and it split in half, revealing a growing mass of some sort of pale, flesh-like foam that quickly became larger than myself. Eventually it stopped growing and rested there, pulsating.
I've been in the tunnel since, unwilling to interact with this thing for the time being.
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The foam is food.
We were on one of our last cans of good meat when Cy threw his to ground, shouted about how sick he was of it, and then ran out of the tunnel and up the staircase. We chased after him (we couldn't let what Giles did repeat) and saw his face buried in the foam, chewing like a mad animal. He pulled his head out to tell us how great it tasted then plunged back in. None of us knew what to do at first. Shaw simply shrugged then joined in, and over time the rest of us did too. It was the most nourishing meal I've had in ages.
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We pay the beasts far less mind now. We will still go quiet when three or more of them march past us in the tunnel, but they have harmed us naught. Not even a single "voice" has been heard. Every two days a new food sphere is dropped, even with the other ones being far from deplenished. Outside the beasts continually drop strange objects and apparatuses until they melt into the snow, at which point a new group emerges to repeat the process. Palmer, Abner, and I have tried to understand what these devices do but their nearly monolithic designs elude us.
The twilight continues to haunt us—certainly it will always be the case until the daylight months return—but Antarctica has come to feel less treacherous. I will continue to keep my guard, though. For the sake of my crew I won't allow us to be caught when we are vulnerable.
Something impossible happened last night (prior to me falling asleep, so I write this the following day). We heard the familiar clanging noises of the beasts as a new group was nearing the tunnel exit, but there was a difference. I have grown accustomed to hearing the rhythmic noises they make when moving across metal, so when I heard an entirely different set of sounds I was disturbed.
Coming out of the tunnel, flanked on both sides by two beasts, was something only vaguely human. It moved on mechanical legs, six many-jointed silver arms dangling, the seventh arm emerging from its chest pointed forward. The torso was hidden under a tattered, blood-stained coat, and a mask of ice that refused to melt obscured its face.
The creature shambled over to me and spoke in a voice like faulty typewriters, introducing itself as Richards Parish. By that point I was certain I was dreaming, so I welcomed him back and then fell asleep. When I woke up in the morning I was not prepared to see him truly exist.
I'd be lying if I said that none of us were in shock at Richards' return. He acts as though he never left, only alluding to changes when he calls himself an "ambassador for man." Whenever I ask about what happened to him in the pit he becomes silent, only talking again when the conversation shifts to a different topic. Never has he taken off the mask, saying it's best it stays on.
His behavior has also become even more peculiar. He accompanies the beasts when they leave to drop their devices, then uses his arms to open the machines and apparently inspect them. He continues to do the "seven knocks on metal" ritual but now its accompanied by his own clicking sounds, and I am certain that the objects he carves with his symbols now glow in the darkness. It is faint but I know it is there. When nothing else is happening he'll ramble on about nonsensical subjects. All I can understand are sentences about how everyone should be bleeding.
I can't trust him. I mustn't.
In the "afternoon" (or at least what felt like it), I assembled Abner and Palmer for what I told the crew was "a survey of the outside to find the best route for the expedition." In reality we went to check the devices. Richards was returning to the tunnel when we left so we knew that not a soul would see us.
The target of our investigation was a cubic machine. It had an array of limbs that stabbed the snow and pumped a brown fluid into it, staining the area. The three of us tried to pull a limb out of the ground, then tried to hoist the entire object, but we found that it was firmly stuck in place. Abner spotted a panel on one side and opened it, exposing some sort of spherical contraption surrounded by wires on the inside. Messing with the interior of a potentially dangerous mechanism was a terrible idea, so we started digging up the snow around it.
The ice was wholly being replaced by some form of pale purple dirt, blue plant-things sprouting in it. Palmer rushed over to a near identical object, dug around, and found more purple dirt and blue plants. For an hour we watched the ice transmute into dirt and sprout plants like nothing I have heard of. Even small slug-like creatures began to take form from fluids in the soil. We returned to the tunnel an hour later.
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Recently Cy has taken an interest in Richards' nonsense. He'll sit by him, listening to every word he says like a student with their teacher. I swear I've seen him take notes on a scrap of paper once. To-day when Richards started the knocking he joined in, and now they are repeating the same chants as I write. I haven't seen him scared at the sight of a beast since.
Cy may be the youngest but he isn't idiotic. That much I know. If he is willing to listen and follow along with the occult then there must be a reason for it. What such a reason could be escapes me.
I was returning from a brief look outside when Richards approached me, telling me that he had questions. He led me to a section of the cave away from the tunnel and asked me why Palmer, Abner and I keep leaving to inspect the machines (he saw us). I said that I was only interested in what they were doing in as calm of a manner as I could muster. Like a faulty record he started asking if I "meant harm" incessantly. I kept responding with "no" but as he asked I began doubting how true my answer was.
He abruptly paused, placed a hand on my shoulder, and asked if I realized the importance the beasts held. I was so out of my wits that I was silent. He said that, if I was interested in the machines, I should be joining him in his rituals. He claimed that it would be an enlightening experience for everyone and a path with more opportunities than heading for the South Pole. I nearly lost my nerve and shouted about how far we had come since we departed and how renowned we would be upon returning. He sighed, said that it was pointless to be in the shadow of Amundsen when there was a higher purpose below, then left for the tunnel.
Whether by our digging that exposed the dirt or by the whims of the machines, the dirt has replaced at least half an acre. The plants have become spore-spewing pillars and the slugs as large as my feet, occasionally dividing like cells or inflating into zeppelin creatures that fly to the horizon and out of sight. The other machines seem to be helping the growth, releasing dirt-making fluid and foam for the animals. The beasts simply perform inspections then leave devices farther out in the tundra. It is reassuring that the expansion seems to have slowed down, but the amount of life here is constantly increasing. It's as if every time I turn to look some new type of slug or "plant" has appeared.
The situation at the tunnel seems to be equally deteriorating. Cy isn't alone. Shaw, Shelton, and Esben are all involved in hourly rituals. They barely notice when I call out to them, more intent on every move Richard makes and his talk of impossible stars, bleeding gods, and world-sized corpses. The only one to pay me any mind is Esben. Initially I was afraid by how nonsensical Richards seemed to be. Now I'm afraid that the nonsense is true.
I am not one to keep logs of dreams, but this one has happened so often and is recalled so clearly that I must write it down.
It starts with seven points of light in darkness. One point cracks and bleeds pink liquid, which coalesces into a thin, glowing ring. Then there is a planet, the details of which are just a fuzz. The ring emerges on the planet and stays until the planet cracks. A second planet, covered in what I think are green oceans, appears and the ring emerges again. Something made of flesh appears on it and the planet vanishes, replaced by another covered in purple soil with the pink ring on it. A hole opens [ILLEGIBLE: Paper stained with haemorozin] and the ring appears above Antarctica.
A week ago, when I heard the "voice," I didn't know why it said "home." Surely the home of such a monstrosity would be long ways off from here, down in the underworld were it belongs. It had to have been confused. Now I've realiz—[ILLEGIBLE: Paper stained with haemorozin]—demons are far too human for what these ar—
[REMAINDER OF PAGE ILLEGIBLE: Stained with haemorozin.]
I woke up last night while everyone else was sleeping after feeling something rub against my back. Standing overhead was Richards, reading my journal and dripping the damn pink blood out of his mask as he did so. He'd reached behind my back, into my sleeping bag, and pulled it out. I tried to stay as still as possible, provide an illusion of slumber. Minutes that felt like years passed and he dropped the journal in front of me, stepping over me and walking deeper into the tunnel. Once I was sure he had left I reached to pull my journal back to safety when a metal hand slammed down onto mine. I was dragged out of the bed. I've forgotten the rest.
It isn't safe here anymore. I won't write till it is.
Earlier to-day I woke Abner and Palmer to tell them about last night's events. There was no doubt we had to move. Everyone else was sleeping and I had seen Richard go deep into the tunnel with two beasts, so we quietly packed whatever supplies we could. Palmer accidentally woke Esben, who we told that we would be departing to survey the land, though Esben was luckily sane. He pleaded to come with us, saying that the rituals Richards' started seemed entertaining at first but are now incredibly disturbing. Although I am wary I brought him along. More hands on deck is always better.
Our trek outside was uneventful, though the ecosystem the beasts had been creating with the dirt is now flourishing. I barely know where I can begin describing the The amount of "plants" has increased to the point where much of the purple ground is covered in strange yellows and blues. "Insects" would scurry out of our path before I could get a good look at them, and the slugs (now as large as horses) were feasting on the remains of something long. We were all happy to be out of there.
I am currently writing this within the hut we abandoned. I don't know how long it will stay standing. Once it does fall, I don't know where we will go. Our supplies will last us for a few days, but when they run out I know Lewin's crew will be too far away to aid us. God help me.
When we left yesterday someone had to have been listening to our move. Through one of the windows I can see Richards, Shaw, Shelton, and Cy, standing side by side in the distance. I think they are watching the hut. I've told the crew and we'll be staying on guard.
It's an hour later. Richards, Shaw, and Cy have left for the cave. Shelton seemed to "fall" into the snow and vanish. I occasionally see brief movement under the snow but it feels like my mind is playing tricks on me.
An hour after my last entry Shelton broke into the hut. I heard the shattering of glass and I found that he had lunged through the window at Abner, trying to strangle him. I kicked him off and the four of us got him restrained and tied up to a chair. His skin had paled since we last saw him, and a metal cylinder, warm to the touch, had been embedded in his chest. We tried to get him to talk but much like Richards he went quiet and stared nowhere.
Esben then knelt down by the chair, whispered a sentence in the language Richards was so fond of, and he started shaking. He told us that Richards wanted to speak with me, a statement he kept repeating again and again (either that was all his brain let him say or he needed to keep quiet about something else). Mid-sentence he went quiet, gurgled a bit, then his whole head started to melt and sink below the collar of his jacket. Like a heated wax statue his whole body liquified and all that remained was a pool of pink blood.
After much deliberation, I will head out to meet with Richards. I can see him from the window, standing at the edge of the ecosystem. If I don't return I'll leave Abner in charge of what little remains of the expedition. He'll make it to the Pole in my honor.
I survived. When I arrived the only people there were Cy and Richards. I was hoping that the pink blood stains wouldn't be obvious on my clothes, but now that I inspect them it's clear they could see it. They knew what happened. Richards made some sort of noise (a chuckle?) and he said that "they" did not mean the world harm, that after this shaky start it would improve.
Richards' body, for lack of accurate words, unfolded. His body spasmed open and a cylindrical spire shot out of the fractured remains, growing like a deranged plant. I recoiled, with Cy taking the chance to start choking me, not noticing the ice axe I had brought (I am cleaning the viscera off it as I write).
Once the regrettable deed was done it was far too late for Richards, though. The spire was thicker than his entire torso and was growing by the second, pulling the rest of his mass and the surrounding terrain inwards with twisting metal tendrils. Every single apparatus the creatures had left behind was pulled in and incorporated into its mass, with similarly shaped protrusions forming on the sides. The last words I heard from him were "protect existence." His head was pulled in with a sickening crunch right after.
All I could do was run. The rest of the day has been spent with the crew, watching from the camp in horror as the tower grows taller than the highest steeples. The Antarctic night is setting in and bright red lights are flickering along the tower's sides.
The next seven pages consist of drawings. It is unknown what many of the drawings represent, though several have been identified as SCP-3XXX-C instances, vehicles resembling those found at Martian impact crater Herschel, unknown organisms, and sketches presumed to depict the tower previously described. The only text present is the word "spreading."
Under those unearthly lights of the flora and tower I can spot someone entering a vehicle, almost like the "tanks" my military friend spoke of. Unless they are operated in unimaginable ways, these will be our best chance at reaching the pole. First priority is halting the beasts. I won't let myself be responsible for not ending this when I had the chance. God give us strength.
In the "morning" the crew and I gathered any tools that could serve as weapons and our best supplies, then set out to the tower. With Cy and Shelton dead and Richards effectively gone, the only dangers would be the beasts, the creatures of the ecosystem, and Shaw. As we moved, the beasts—levitating around the tower's exterior and adjusting its external machinery—melted into a pink rain, which I hoped had rid us of one more problem.
Once we entered the ecosystem much of the fauna ignored us, more interested in violently attacking each other or mating in bizarre manners. After several minutes we finally saw the tank up close. The vehicle's main mass is a sideways egg-shaped contraption, with large treads attached on either side. Above each tread is a massive mechanical structure, reminding me of the bulky front limbs and claws of crabs.
Problems emerged right as we reached it. Shaw opened the tank's hatch and stepped out, noticed us, then began shouting. Esben shouted something back before being pushed against the tank by an invisible force. Two men, each with bodies built like Richards' but with the exact same face as Shelton, stepped around the tank's edge and babbled in more of that language before running towards us. Abner fired his rifle but the same force made the bullets slow and drop like stones. Palmer made a similar attempt by throwing his lamp but it was tossed far off behind them, breaking and starting a fire.
When they were pressed against the side as well I was certain I was done for, but they froze and stared at me. They were waiting for me to make a move, to have a reason to retaliate. My body was freezing and without shelter inside the vehicle I would perish. Panicking I scurried around, looking for anything I could use when I found a small slug, likely only recently spawned. Disregarding any rational thought I grabbed it and threw it at one of the Shelton duplicates, who didn't so much as flinch. The slug emitted a gurgling screech and a larger entity shambled out of the darkness, resembling one of the slugs but standing on six spindly legs. Its head split open into massive tentacles and the Shelton was pulled into its maw. Esben and Abner fell onto the ground and rushed to open the hatch.
The last Shelton pulled me toward them, folding their mouth open and releasing a long silver structure. In a stroke of luck I still had the ice axe on me, and once I reached them I could save myself from whatever fate awaited me. I crashed onto the ground and sprinted for the hatch, which Esben had holding open as Palmer got in. When I reached it one of the blasted beasts suddenly emerged from the darkness, wrapping its tendrils around the door edges and grabbing onto poor Esben. He was whipped off into the darkness, screaming until a series of metal scrapes and wet cracking sounds rang out.
I shut the hatch and the area instantly warmed. In a stroke of luck the tank's interior is designed as if its makers intended for men to operate it, with various easily accessed storage cabinets along the sides and a ladder leading to a hatch on the top. Abner was at a seat in the front, looking at an array of glass panels suspended by mechanical structures. Each panel glowed and presented views from outside the tank, despite none of the panels being connected to any wall or having any movie projector. He slowly experimented with every button and mechanism until we started moving forward, colliding into the tower.
My memory of the next events is heavily broken, and trying to recall it brings on intense mental pains. Abner began ramming against the tower while pushing with the tank's claws to make it topple, and with each thud I heard the "voice" of Richards. It shouted at me, telling me that I was idiotic, and with every collisions it screamed louder to call me a murderer and "A KILLER OF HUMANITY'S FUTURE" (why do I write it in capitals?). The last I remember was the "voice" sobbing.
The next moment I can remember is us driving away from the tower, which had just collapsed and crushed the cave. Through the panels I can now see massive gashes in the tower's exterior flashing impossibly vibrant colours. The next several hours have been silent reminiscing. I've told Abner to drive faster, as I know this cannot be a safe object to be around.
Abner beckoned the two of us over to see what was happening on the panels. The colours from the tower had grown bright enough to be like the rising sun, and the surrounding snow and rocks were being lifted into the air around it. I then witnessed a sight I can't stop thinking about. A number of large, black tendrils pushed out of the ruins of the cave and began pulling the tower into the snow. It was as if the tunnel had come to life and wanted needed something that was in that infernal pillar.
There was a violent explosion soon after. I felt the entire vehicle get lifted into the air and thrown back down, which we think has broken one of Palmer's ribs from a collision with the ladder. Looking outside now the site where we had been is now a white inferno, illuminating the sky and creating the illusion of a sunny day.
[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]
We were driving when we a heard loud, wet slam come from right outside the vehicle. I opened the hatch to look out, and lo and behold, Richards had come for a visit. His torso was little more than an amalgam of metal, pulling itself through the snow with three broken arms, a comet trail of pink and red blood stretching out of the crater he made in the snow. I ordered Abner to stop driving but he kept at the wheel (not even making eye contact with me). He didn't even consider how important this was. I yelled as much as I could until the fool stopped.
I went to sit by Richards as his two wound-shaped mouths began babbling like a dying phonograph. I caressed his its head (never have I seen metal crumple so much beneath single presses), whispered apologies to the holes in its face, and swung my axe down over and over [ILLEGIBLE: Text scribbled out]. Not a word has been spoken since I returned.
I remember my departure from England, how I spoke of being able to witness grandeur none in my village would ever see. Sure enough I have seen a world no other man will come to witness, one that puts Amundsen's kiddy sight-seeing to shame. [ILLEGIBLE: Paper stained with blood]. If the map this machine shows is to be believed we are getting closer to our destination by the second (I never needed Abner to drive). Sadly my ink is nearly run out and my pencils mere stubs, so my entries on what's left of the journey will be far less frequent.
For the crew members who have died, I am sorry, and I do not ask that you forgive me. I will continue in your honor. I will reach this damned pole, and may God cast me out of Heaven if I don't.
Notably, a ring-shaped stain of haemorozin is present on the upper left corner of this page. No further entries are present.
The journal and photographs were discovered after MTF ξ-1 discovered the "tank" vehicle Bannard and the remaining crew had been using in July of 2000, 11km away from the South Pole. Although the tank had retained power and heating due to its anomalous power source, one of the treads had been heavily damaged and prevented continued movement. Inside the tank was the decayed cadaver of a male human, who had expired from repeated penetrations on the body, matching those caused by an ice axe. The identity of the cadaver is undetermined. What happened to the crew is unknown.
Addendum.2: Research Station-09
In May of 2019, Research Team 3XXX decided to construct Research Station-09, a cryogenics storage facility located above SCP-3XXX-A. As SCP-3XXX-B manifestations had sharply increased in the region, Station-09 was constructed with the aims of capturing and preserving SCP-3XXX-C instances in cryogenic equipment where it was presumed the biological decay instances experience would be avoided, enabling further opportunities for research. The station was finished construction at the end of June, and by October had obtained over 30 instances.
On 16/10/2019, SCP-3XXX-B manifested directly underneath Research Station-09 with its entrance facing upwards, destabilizing the ground the station was built on and causing it to collapse into SCP-3XXX-B. MTF ξ-1 and other nearby Foundation assets were scrambled to the location. Preliminary investigations using drones were performed; however, contact with all dispatched drones was quickly lost.
Below is footage retrieved from the first drone expedition.
Exploration Video Log Transcript
Starting Date: 16/10/2019
Exploratory Drone: Sia-L192
Subject: SCP-3XXX-B
Foreword: Due to the frequent loss of connection with Sia-L192, the exploration log has been split into sections for each period of transmission from the drone.
Time: 20:11
[EXTRANEOUS FOOTAGE REMOVED]
Sia-L192 has reached a depth of 3,000m. Erratic clicking noises can be heard around the drone, though all cameras observe no abnormalities in the tunnel.
The drone's propellers are suddenly disabled, and the drone rapidly falls down the tunnel. Two lights sources appear below and move upward, found to be originating from two mechanical entities that resemble Praecambridium sigillum5 organisms with mechanical arms attached to their bodies. One of the arms grabs the drone.
Contact with the drone is temporarily lost.
Time: 21:19
The drone is descending at its normal rate, though all ability for it to move on its own is inhibited. After two hours it reaches an exit to SCP-3XXX-B, entering a dark space. The rate of descent increases and the built-in STALKER tracking device observes the drone instantly transporting between a number of locations under Antarctica6. Indiscernible objects move around the drone. The drone's flood lamps fail to illuminate any surroundings.
Bright flashes of light occur above the drone. Higher than average muon emission levels are detected.
Contact with the drone is temporarily lost.
Time: 21:56
Red lights flash around Sia-L192 in ring patterns. The patterns extend above and below for an unknown distance, implying that the drone is descending down a cylindrical tunnel. Analysis of the footage finds that the red lights are originating from towers that jut from the tunnel walls, all matching the illustration of the tower in Bannard's journal.
Contact with the drone is temporarily lost.
Time: 1:34
Visual feeds are gone. Tracking is lost. Faint chanting is heard.
Contact with the drone is permanently lost.
Due to the suspected dangers of sending Foundation personnel into SCP-3XXX-B, no further investigation was planned.
On 19/10/2019, transmissions on registered Foundation communication lines were received from within SCP-3XXX-B. The call sign on all transmissions matched that of Research Station-09.
Transmission #: 1
Type: Audio
Time: 0:29
< BEGIN LOG >
[CALL SIGN REDACTED]. This is an automated emergency alert from Research Station-09. Cryogenics Systems 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7, 7 — [static] — 35 are offline for unknown reasons. Connection to Sectors 2 and 3 is lost.
[static]
Registered events are as follows.
Emergency beacon was automatically activated. Emergency beacon was manually disabled. Research Station [static]. Manual override was performed on all clearance-locked devices connected to RS9 Central Terminal System. All data on devices connected to the RS9 Central Terminal System was copied by Unknown User. New data was added by Uknown User. Data was found to be heavily corrupted and was automatically deleted.
[static]
Connection to Sectors 2 and 3 was lost. No further events have been registered.
Awaiting status report from Head Researcher Lyda Ross.
Awaiting status report from Head Researcher Lyda Ross.
Awaiting status report from Head Researcher Lyda Ross.
Awaiting status report from any present personnel.
[silence for 10 seconds]
Broadcast will repeat in 2 minutes.
< END LOG >
Transmission #: 2
Type: IntSCPFN Secure Relay Chat
Foreword: Following Transmission #1, the Foundation ("Command") attempted to contact Research Station-09 ("Nine") through all possible means. This was the only successful attempt at contact.
Time: 5:28
< BEGIN LOG >
Command: This is Foundation Command. We have been unable to locate Research Station-09 and cannot ascertain the situation. If there are any survivors, please respond.
Message will be repeated.
Nine: hello.
Command: Identify yourself.
Nine: [SECURITY CODE REDACTED]7.
Command: Can you access audiovisual equipment?
Nine: no. just this terminal. most of site is broken and i haven't found anything else. too dark. flashlight's shit too.
Command: How did you survive the fall?
Nine: world went to slow motion before we hit the bottom. i was at the surface before collapse so nothing crushed me when it went back to real time. someone else's blood is on me so i know other people weren't as lucky.
took a while to wake back up but i don't know if that was caused
Command: If possible, can you describe your present location?
Are you still here?
Nine: problems
Command: Respond as soon as possible.
Time: 5:35
Nine: drone fell from above.
jason8 survived and he was shouting about clicking overhead when it fell and nearly hit him. saki9 managed to find us and we dragged the whole thing over here. there's scratches all over it.
did you send drones to find us?
Command: Yes, but we lost contact with all of them. We only know you're in SCP-3XXX-A somewhere.
Nine: i
you're certain we're in it? not somewhere else underground?
Command: If the drone was sending tracking signal's back correctly we're positive of it.
Nine: gods no, gods no
okay
fuck
Command: We're going to figure out how to get you out of there. For now, stay put for as long as possible.
Nine: i'll try.
Time: 6:00
Nine: could i get this drone connected to the terminal?
Command: Sending instructions.
File uploaded: siaLmodel_useguide.pdf
Nine: thanks.
Time: 7:01
Nine: should be set up
have you gotten the image?
Command: Affirmative.
Nine: good
did diagnostics. visual feeds work, stalker unit works, audio feeds don't, one propeller worked but shredded itself and nearly tore into saki.
also before you ask yes that is a photo of wood. we don't know why there's wood down here. i heard a loud bang a while back so it may have fallen from above.
Command: Understood. Is there any additional footage on the drone? Is the muon detector working?
Nine: checked. answer is no. it's either all corrupted, white noise, or audio files of constant clicking. muon detector works.
what is stalker telling you?
Command: It shows you as moving in a circle around Antarctica. Unless the unit is broken you are likely inside a spatial anomaly.
Nine: gods, alright.
Time: 7:38
Nine: sending videos and images.
< END LOG >
Transmission #: 3
Type: Video
Time: 7:12
< BEGIN LOG >
Sia-L192's camera turns on. The drone is positioned inside a broken storage room, its walls and ceiling largely collapsed. Senior Researcher Roydon kneels in front, illuminated by the drone's low-power flashlight, and speaks to a person behind the camera, giving a thumbs up before walking out of view.
The drone is turned around to view the area outside the room. Past a collapsed wall are large chunks of ice, from which tunnels and entrances into the sectors of Research Station-09. Rubble surrounds and fills the gaps between each chunk. The only sources of illumination are emergency lights, long trails of glowing pink haemorozin crossing the ground, and a flashlight presumably held by Researcher Yamada, who is inspecting the sector entrances.
The camera is detached from the drone's chassis. Turning around, there is a brief glimpse of the cable connecting the camera to the chassis and the chassis with virtually all of its components stripped from it, aside from the battery and onboard computer. Roydon grabs onto the chassis and starts walking out of the room while Junior Researcher Ishikawa points the camera back to Yamada's location. Both of their flashlights turn on.
Yamada beckons them to the entrance nearest to her. Ishikawa trudges along the ice, raising the camera up at points. Above is a near pitch-black space, with the only visible mass being a metallic tube potentially kilometers in diameter that gently curves down before vanishing into the distance. Two small lights appear on its surface, though this is not noticed by the researchers.
Ishikawa and Roydon jump from their chunk to the next and reach Ishikawa. She leads them down one of the Sector 2 hallways, noticeably slanted, into an area where all emergency lights have lost power. Her flashlight aims at multiple cryogenics units. Each unit has had its hatch forcibly torn off, some crumpled against the opposite wall, and are all tracked in haemorozin. Human blood spills from under one hatch.
All three abruptly turn around and run up to the entrance. A plume of dust rises from near the structure Ishikawa and Roydon had previously been in, and the camera quickly turns around to catch an indiscernible object plummeting from above and colliding with the ruins of Sector 3 to the left. The camera points up and the two lights on the tunnel are seen shrinking and vanishing.
< END LOG >
Transmission #: 4
Type: Image
Time: 7:20
Description: The ruins of Sector 3, damaged further by piles of broken vehicles, machinery, and assorted scrap. Sections of the ice chunk the sector is in are noticeable cracked.
Transmission #: 5
Type: Image
Time: 7:26
Description: The structure identified as Sector 1, resting on top of its ice chunk with the broken storage room Ishikawa and Roydon had resided in earlier to the left. An apartment building is collapsed along the structure. The bottom floor is completely obliterated while the five floors above it are either in the process of collapsing further or, in the case of what would be the top two floors, unusually intact.
Transmission #: 6
Type: Video
Time: 7:30
< BEGIN LOG >
A thin metallic spire raising upwards. Organic tendrils on its surface undulate in sinusoidal patterns, pink lights moving through them and increasing in intensity until the spire is largely obscured by the light. After one minute the lights dissipate and the tendrils go limp.
< END LOG >
Transmission #: 7
Type: IntSCPFN Secure Relay Chat
Time: 7:48
< BEGIN LOG >
Nine2: okay, found a laptop i can use instead of the terminal (can't transport and it was running out of power).
did you receive the files?
Command: Took a while but they're downloaded. Could we have more context on the last video you took?
Nine2: the tentacle spire?
Command: Yes.
Nine2: not much we can say there.
we know next to nothing about it.
it's extending between two ice chunks, taller than anything else, and it only started acting up after the apartment hit sector 1. jason found a few more spires like it, all between cracks in the ice as well, but we haven't seen any of them be active so far.
Command: Any idea about why it became active?
Nine2: it started right after the apartments collapsed.
aside from that, no.
nothing.
no idea on why things keep dropping from above either.
maybe if jason's scouting finds anything we could figure out more but for now it's dark down here and i'm holed up by the one portable electrical generator sector 1 has.
Command: Wait, scouting?
Nine2: oh.
forgot to mention.
jason is scouting the area. saki is on the roof above me and is keeping in contact with walkie-talkies sector 2 had. we're hoping we can find an exit or path to an exit. based on the fall we went down i have low hopes but it's worth an effort.
Command: Understood. Wanted to make sure your group isn't spread out enough that problems may arise.
Nine2: well i hope we aren't spread out enough already. i hope.
Command: Stay safe out there.
< END LOG >
Transmission #: 8
Type: Video
Time: 8:10
Foreword: Although this was recorded at 8:10, this was received by the Foundation at 9:30.
< BEGIN LOG >
Camera turns on to a view of an ice chunk, turning to look down the Sector 2 hallway investigated in Transmission #3. Based on the quick camera movements and the lack of fractures on the lens, this is determined to be a handheld camera rather than that of the drone. It points to Roydon, who is holding it and is at the hallway's entrance.
J. Roydon: Testing, testing.
Roydon speaks into his walkie-talkie. There is a loud boom outside.
J. Roydon: No, I don't know if this will work. If not we go back to the drone. If my back doesn't run into more risk of breaking itself from dragging it around. Also, where was the boom from and what fell?
A pause.
J. Roydon: Ocean life? Deep sea? Okay. Over.
He puts the walkie-talkie on his belt and carefully descends the hallway. Several of the emergency lights have turned off since the last exploration, some noticeably broken as if by blunt force. He reaches the hatch with human blood under it. Grabbing the camera's straps and putting it around his neck, he slowly heaves the hatch and pushes it. The hatch collides with the other crumpled hatches, all of gradually slide down the hallway before colliding with an outcrop of twisted metal.
Aside from blood stains on the wall, the position of the camera prevents it from seeing what the hatch had covered.
J. Roydon: Body's gone.
Indiscernible speech from the walkie-talkie is heard.
J. Roydon: Gone. Vanished. Blood and clothes scraps left. No trails of blood either. No, no I don't know what to make of it… Yes, there had to have been a body to start with. Blood doesn't pile on its own.
Faint footsteps emanate behind Roydon.
J. Roydon: There would be a trail if it went under another hatch… Okay. I'll check.
Roydon turns and suddenly stumbles back. He tumbles down the rest of the hallway, reaching the locked emergency blast doors at its end. The camera looks to the hallway entrance. No abnormalities are present.
J. Roydon: I'm… (groaning) good. Eyes played tricks on… me…
Silence for 10 seconds.
J. Roydon: (to the walkie-talkie, whispering) I'm hearing voices down here.
< END LOG >
Note: At this point connection issues began to occur between Command and Research Station-09. The following transmissions arrived at 9:30.
Transmission #: 9
Type: IntSCPFN Secure Relay Chat
Time: 8:15
Nine2: i can't hear saki anymore.
nothing from the walie-talkie, either.
will keep updated.
Time: 8:25
Nine2: maybe they found other survivors. it would explain their absence.
Time: 8:28
Nine2: I'm checking outside.
Time: 8:35
Nine2: nobody is around. nothing in sector 1. nothing outside sector 1. saki's roof outpost is empty and her supplies are gone. she left. her walkie-talkie is here, too. whatever made her leave must have been important if she forgot to bring the walkie-talkie along.
can't connect to roydon through the walkie-talkie either. only white noise.
new fallen wreck on one of the other ice chunks. too dark to see what it is, though. a tentacle spire near sector 2 is starting to glow as well.
Time: 8:39
Nine2: command?
where did you go?
i'll be waiting until yamada and roydon return, unless the situation changes. advice would be appreciated if you are there, command.
Time: 8:42
Nine2: i hear voices from the collapsed apartment. i can see an easy way in through a hole on the "roof" of it.
i'm going to look.
< END LOG >
Transmission #: 9
Type: Video
Time: 8:42
< BEGIN LOG >
Yamada drills into the locking mechanisms of the emergency door, turning the drill off after several seconds. Roydon stands behind her.
S. Yamada: I can already feel it giving way. The fall really did a number on this.
J. Roydon: Good. Can you still hear them?
Yamada lowers the drill and puts her head to the door.
S. Yamada: I can— No. Wait.
J. Roydon: What—
S. Yamada: Shh.
Silence for eight seconds. The only audible sounds are those of Roydon's breathing. There is a quick succession of banging sounds against the opposite side of the door, starting and stopping over the next several seconds.
[Heavy audiovisual interference for two minutes.]
Yamada drills into the locking mechanisms. Banging against the door continues. Roydon hits the door with a slab of twisted metal, forming a morse code sequence.
J. Roydon: O P E N I N G
Muffled shouting originates from the opposite side. The banging resumes soon after, forming morse code as well.
Unknown: F A S T E R
The locking mechanism breaks. Emergency alarms blare.
[Heavy audiovisual interference for one minute.]
< END LOG >
Transmission #: 9
Type: IntSCPFN Secure Relay Chat
Time: 8:44
< BEGIN LOG >
Nine2: peopel somewhere in here. whispering. crying. i think they lived in here before but i can't speak with them, they don't speak english or japanes e so we can't understand ecah otger found blood
command please come in soon. gods plaesde please come in soon. i can't handle this alone
when the spire gets more pink they
< END LOG >
Transmission #: 11
Type: Video
Time: 8:44
< BEGIN LOG >
Roydon and Yamada pry at the door's opening with pieces of metal. Red lights and dark figures are seen through the narrow slit of the opening. Persons on the opposite side of the door speak.
Male Voice 1: The crowbar's too bent, it's fucked!
Female Voice 1: Doesn't matter, keep prying!
S. Yamada: We're going to get you out, keep working at it.
Male Voice 2: Does anyone have more bandages—
Metal groans and a loud crash echoes from inside.
Male Voice 3: (Sobbing)
Female Voice 1: It's still caving in!
S. Yamada: We know! We know!
Yamada grabs the drill again, gesturing for Roydon to step back to the hallway wall. The moment she prepares to turn the drill on the door opens.
Female Voice 1: Oh thank god—
Before Roydon can look past the door, parts of the ceiling in the room behind it caves in, crushing an individual briefly seen inside and narrowly avoiding Yamada.
J. Roydon: (Gasping) Christ, I can't—
S. Yamada: Anybody still alive get out…
Clicking sounds echo. Yamada freezes in place, dropping the drill, and Roydon moves the camera to view the space behind the doors. A ring of bright pink light obscures the camera.
[Heavy audiovisual interference for the remaining seven minutes of footage. No details are discernible.]
< END LOG >
Transmission #: 12
Type: IntSCPFN Secure Relay Chat
Time: 8:50
< BEGIN LOG >
Nine2: it was so loiud wthey were so lodu gods gods gods no i can't where did
Command: There's been connection issues for a good while. What happened?
Nine2: brainelss
brainless
clean hoels holes in all of them taken right out buildinbg was crushigb rebvar through lunsg bleeding heads were gone wor or brains were
dead and i heard lciking
clicking. it alwys is clicking why why spire did it spire did it spidr spire did
gods why
can't breath cna't be donwn here need to be above
This is Jason.
Command: Roydon? What's happened?
Nine2: Yuuna's having a panic attack. Saki's with her right now, away from the computer so she doesn't keep typing up what's been freaking her out and making herself freak out more.
Command: Understood. What was the situation with you and Yamada?
Nine2: We ran into problems of our own. Sending the video logs right now. I was able to find a handheld camera in Sector 2, which should work better than the drone (though we'll still keep that around).
We found survivors holed up in Sector 2. Most of them were from the Cryogenics Department, managing to get to what they thought was a safe room when rumbles of the fall started, but the impact with the ground left everything above them unstable.
You can see what we saw, right?
Command: Negative. A bright ring of pink light blocks the view at the moment you can actually look in. What did you see?
Nine2: All of their heads were open. Clean heptagonal cuts through the skull and into the brain cavities, brains entirely taken out. We didn't get a chance to look. Then the ceiling caved in. We got out before the hallway we went down did too. And most of the Sector, by the looks of it.
Command: I take it that is what happened with the apartment?
Nine2: I'd assume so, though we can't see for ourselves. The whole apartment is collapsed now.
Because I need to take my mind off Yuuna's sobbing somehow, can I ask a question?
Command: Yes?
Nine2: Who am I speaking to right now? Who are you?
Command: I can't disclose that information.
Nine2: Would you be inclined if you knew I'd be more comforted knowing that I was talking to an actual human being and not a faceless "Command?" It feels alone enough down here. I don't need added alienation from the Foundation.
Command: Again, this is protocol. In the event that you or Ishikawa or Yamada are anomalously compromised the Foundation doesn't want to potentially endanger "Command" by having our identities made known. It may be rare but it has happened before. They don't want it again.
Nine2: Fine.
Command: I have a question directly from the head staff: You were exploring the area before you and Yamada entered Sector 2, correct?
Nine2: Yes.
Command: What did you find during that?
Nine2: Well for starters, I found and marked the emergency food reserves, a single pistol (I have it on me), more piles of junk falling from above, and I dug out some ice we can use for water.
Beyond that?
Nothing.
This area is as wide as the few ice chunks comprising it are, and past that is a sheer drop into darkness. In the distance is nothing, only more blackness, and it is like that on every side of the ice chunk "island" we seem to be on. I've tried to look out and spot out anything out of the ordinary, like the tube above us, or more light spots from things falling, or any islands like ours, but I have spotted nothing. Sometimes I thought I saw signs of movement but it's only tricks of the eye. The darkness messes with you.
I don't know what this island is resting on as well. The only thing I can see is abyss.
Command: Only tricks of the eye? You are in an anomaly; I wouldn't disregard that movement.
Nine2: I also know how my mind can mess with me. It's nothing unusual.
Anyways, I did find something that isn't abyss at the island edges. A metal walkway, located at the southern end (if I can trust compasses down here), if walkway is the right word. It's about as wide as a single ice chunk, has zero forms of lighting, and slopes into the darkness, maybe to something beyond here. I would check but I don't want to do anything risky yet.
Command: Understood.
On a different note, we have sent another drone into SCP-3XXX-B. If this shows up down there, let us know immediately and send back any data it has.
Nine2: Alright.
Likely will need to leave soon. Yuuna is starting to calm down now.
Command: Stay safe. We promise we'll get you out of there.
Nine2: Don't make promises. Last promise I made left a man thinking he'd see his family again as he froze to death in an irreparable cryogenics vault. Apologies if that's harsh but promises are the last thing I want to be thinking of down here.
< END LOG >
Transmission #: 13
Type: Video
Time: 9:10
< BEGIN LOG >
The footage is from Roydon's handheld camera, placed atop a crate on the Sector 1 roof. Roydon, Ishikawa, and Yamada sit on additional crates by a makeshift campfire, with Yamada's arm around Ishikawa's back. Rubble from the collapsed apartment is in view.
All three are talking amongst themselves. Yamada repeatedly glances at the camera with furrowed brows. Roydon stands up from his crate and walks behind the camera. The camera shakes and sound turns on.
Yamada: —but we can't keep this on all the time
Roydon: Logically no. Repowering will be needed every 12 hours.
Yamada: Well… fine.
Roydon enters view again.
Roydon: Is something wrong?
Yamada: I'd… Rather not have constant surveillance, from the Foundation.
Roydon: "Constant" is an exaggeration. We won't have this on all of the time. Foundation also needs some way of knowing what happens to us down here.
Yamada: I know but I feel like there's enough eyes on me down here right now. I don't need the Foundation joining them.
A loud boom echoes from an unknown location, accompanied by slight rumbling of Sector 1. Roydon inhales, as if to respond to Yamada, but briefly looks around and stays silent, returning to his crate. Yamada pats Ishikawa's back. Ishikawa stares blankly at the ground.
Yamada: Feeling better now?
Ishikawa: I think so. (Light breathing) I'm sorry, that whole thing was unprofessional of me to do.
Yamada: It was unprofessional of me to run off without leaving some sign of where I went. You don't need to apologize.
Roydon: We screwed up. (He sips from a canteen)
Yamada: Yes, we screwed up indeed.
Ishikawa: Okay…
Slowly nodding, Ishikawa rests her head on the back of her hands, covering what is exposed of her face under her cold weather clothing. Ten seconds of silence pass until all three are alerted by a rapid beeping. Her hands lower and Ishikawa looks to her right.
Ishikawa: The drone's muon detector is still on?
Yamada steps up and moves out of view. Roydon gets up as well and grabs the camera, turning it to face her. She is kneeling by the dismantled drone and its cuboid Model III.A Portable Muon Detector, unfolding a panel to expose a cracked computer monitor.
Yamada: A lot of muons, too. Three times higher than what we detect on the surface. Spatial distortions could be limiting what reaches the surface in time before decay begins, maybe trapping them in hyperbolic spacetime manifolds…
Roydon: Why's it only on now?
Yamada: Hm?
Roydon: We haven't touched the drone in a while, so why would it just now turn on, and with it's audio mode enabled, too?
Yamada: I… Don't…
Leaning closer in, Yamada inspects the computer monitor while opening a panel covering a keyboard. The monitor glitches, overlaying an image of a black background with a pink ring in the foreground, though despite this the text remains legible. Yamada does not react.
Yamada: Log says it was reactivated right when we heard it turn on.
The muon detection noises transition into rhythmic clicking, its pitch increasing. Ishikawa and Roydon display no visible reactions.
Ishikawa: Turn it off.
Yamada: What?
Ishikawa: This— This clicking. It's so loud and like 3XXX-C noises that I'm feeling very nervous about it right now.
Yamada: What are you talking about? There are no clicking noises.
Ishikawa: Please, please don't joke like this.
Roydon: (He turns to face Ishikawa, with the camera now viewing her) She's not joking. Nothing is making a clicking noise.
Shaking, Ishikawa stands up and slowly approaches the detector, jittering each time the clicking pattern reaches a high point in pitch. Half a meter away she freezes, staring in the direction of the computer monitor.
Yamada: Jason, how are you not hearing the clicking?
Ishikawa: What clicking?
All three freeze in place, staring at each other. Aside from the clicking, the only audible sounds are the breaths of the researchers. Gradually, Ishikawa looks to her right and points.
Ishikawa: Do you see the spire?
Roydon shifts the camera to near the direction of the spire but stops.
Ishikawa: The tendrils are pointing at us.
The clicking transforms into a shrill, metallic scrape. When Roydon faces the camera at the monitor again gibberish text covers the screen, all muon readings lost. The pink ring flickers between images of a bleeding humanoid figure standing in the snow before the scraping ends with ice cracking noises. The detector shuts off.
No movements are made for several seconds until Ishikawa returns to the campfire, next to it. The camera looks to the nearby spire. Its tendrils are limp, hanging by its side.
Ishikawa: Gods, I feel so tired right now.
Yamada: Same. How long have we been awake for since the fall?
Roydon: Well, I woke up at around 04, but I haven't felt rested in the slightest.
Ishikawa: 05.
Yamada: 04. Jesus, only five hours… I think we all need to sleep.
Roydon: (Moving to sit by the camp fire as well) Agreed.
Yamada: I think this part of the sector will have some sleeping bags, last I checked, four for each of us.
Roydon: Four sleeping bags?
Yamada: No, three. I don't know why I said four.
[Video corruption for seven seconds.]
Yamada: If we want to stay up here I'll go find a tent.
Roydon: Alright.
He sits on a crate and holds the camera to his face.
Roydon: I'll turn this off and start uploading the footage. Good night, or good morning, Foundation.
He turns off the camera.
< END LOG >
Transmission #: 14
Type: Image
Time: 10:07
Description: A heavily blurred and partially corrupted photograph of the tent. A humanoid entity, details obscured by the lack of light, stands next to it is placing their hand on it.
[stuff about transmissions from the collapsed station]
SCP-3XXX-B demanifested on [date]. The structure was observed to form a metal barrier covering its entrance, ectoentropically generating large quantities of snow and ice to fill the hole it had created, then descending shortly after. Lunar Area-32 and Martian Area-01 continued to detect signals with Research Station-09's call sign for a period of two weeks; following the call sign, all transmissions entirely consisted of white noise.
A subsequent SCP-3XXX-B manifestation produced an SCP-3XXX-C instance that was found to be carrying the Sia-L192 drone, which had been embedded with a wide number of unidentified devices. A single phrase is engraved onto the drone's chassis:
below is where truths and gods lie — join
The handwriting matches that of Dayton Bannard.
Addendum.3: Pensacola Mountains Investigation
Following research on known locations the Bannard expedition reached, MTF ξ-1 was able to locate the presumed site of the described tower and cave in February of 2020. The location was a crater 0.5km in radius, buried under snow and ice near the Pensacola Mountains. Excavation discovered a 200km long broken SCP-3XXX-B instance, remnants of the wooden shack the expedition stayed in, as well as a number of anomalous metal fragments.
Testing of the metal fragments has found that they convert solid matter around it into a purple soil-like compound, presumed to be achieved via alterations to the solid's subatomic structure. The only byproducts of this process are muons.
So this is the longest article I've ever written for this wiki. I started it nearly a year ago, back in winter, but got caught up in enough other stuff that this got pushed to the sidelines. Now I'm finally getting this up.
Thanks to CadaverCommander, MaliceAforethought, Tanhony, DarkStuff, Cyantreuse does not match any existing user name, OthellotheCat, Stallmantic for reading and critting!
Image sources:
- https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Concordia_Station_at_Dome_C.jpg
- https://www.jpl.nasa.gov/news/news.php?release=2013-077 (NASA image use policy)
- https://www.flickr.com/photos/67193564@N03/6173953772/
- https://www.flickr.com/photos/national_library_of_australia_commons/6173956626/in/gallery-mattiabattistin-72157628648579585/
- https://www.flickr.com/photos/national_library_of_australia_commons/6173420793/in/photostream/
- https://www.flickr.com/photos/national_library_of_australia_commons/6173948894/in/photostream/
- https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Entrance_tunnel_for_Svalbard_Global_Seed_Vault.jpg
- https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Culvert_clogged_with_debris_(6726268821).jpg
- https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Pensacola_Glacier.jpg
For the record, while this does reference SCP-2651 and the Church of the Second Hytoth, in-depth knowledge of either shouldn't be required to enjoy reading this. It's all fairly distanced from the real nitty-gritty details of the group, though it does play a really important role that isn't fully explored yet.
On a related note, after like two more CotSH articles posted I'll temporarily stop making new content for them and instead focus on getting a GoI hub completed. Current time frame should be in the next two to three months, if things go as planned. Stay tuned.
tags: scp euclid second-hytoth arthropod telepathic telekinetic structure extraterrestrial subterranean transfiguration mechanical metallic spacetime ectoentropic moon
Things to change:
- Check language to make sure it doesn't feel too modern
- Shorten descriptions so the second part isn't too much of a slog
- Today -> To-day
Unused images:
Crew members:
- Dayton
- Abner
- Palmer
- Richards
- Cy
- Shelton
- Shaw
- Esben
Researchers:
- Yuuna Ishikawa
- Jason Roydon
- Saki Yamada
Nine2: mars was burning and the moon kept turning and they drove a lance through mars's crust and locked it tight, the planet broke but the lance and its wound remained — you should see it with your own eyes. it is beautiful10
the moon would never work. it refused to work.
and they failed. i don't know why. our planet was ready and they failed, their survivors locking themselves below from the light of day while existence forgot them. there was warmth under the mantle. then emptiness. then cold tundra. it was all i saw
but i know something new now.
the man from the dreams.
for the longest time i thought i knew who this man was, who had been struggling through the antarctic wastes with wounds on his arms, face, body. but tonight i stopped seeing the haze surrounding him and saw the truth. i realized.
they weren't richards. richards died in 1919.
no one died down here
Nine2: Where are the muons coming from?
Where are the muons coming from?
Where are the muons coming from?
Where are the muons coming from?
Where are the muons coming from?
i didn't send those messages.
The last page is entirely illegible. Sentence fragments appear to be present, though they had been repeatedly written over and scribbled out by pencil. Symbols resembling those of the Ortothan Extraterrestrial Language (OEL)[footnote]A language spoken by GoI-3088 ("The Church of the Second Hytoth") and multiple extraterrestrial anomalies. The language is presumed to have arrived on Earth during an encounter between prehistoric humans and an extraterrestrial entity, though details on this event are lacking.are also present. Information on the language was limited until the discovery of [http://www.scp-wiki.net/scp-2417 SCP-2417 in 2016, though the manner in which the symbols were written prevents accurate translation. Notably, a circular stain of dried haemorozin is in the upper left corner.
-
The entity (SCP-3XXX-D) turns to face an SCP-3XXX-C instance. The drone is suddenly lifted, exposing its microphone and allowing clear audio to be recorded.
SCP-3XXX-D: ….from outside?
SCP-3XXX-D's voice is raspy and electronically distorted.
SCP-3XXX-C1: (clicking vocalizations)
SCP-3XXX-D: The Monitoring Ones?
SCP-3XXX-C1: (short clicks)
SCP-3XXX-D: Not wise. They enter once, they enter again. We know what happened to—
SCP-3XXX-C1: (long series of clicks)
SCP-3XXX-D: I do not doubt Progenitor. I doubt that it would end without damages. Outside has developed enough that they can live in the tundras and the void, should they reenter with hostility…
SCP-3XXX-C1: (long series of clicks)
SCP-3XXX-D: (brief pause) No. He was lucky. It would not repeat.
SCP-3XXX-C1: (erratic clicking)
SCP-3XXX-D: (brief pause) If Progenitor believes it then we will give them the benefit of the doubt.
SCP-3XXX-C1: (short clicks)
SCP-3XXX-D: I know they hear us.
Sia-L192 is turned around to face away from the moat to see hundreds of cylindrical structures of variable height, illuminated by red lights on their sides. Observable details match the drawings of the tower in Bannard's journal.
Exploration Video Log Transcript
Starting Date: 1-January-2020
Exploratory Drone: Sia-L192
Subject: SCP-3XXX-B
Procedure: Sia-L192 will be deployed into SCP-3XXX-B after manifestation and will descend down the structure. An enlarged battery and rudimentary AI construct have been added to the drone to ensure its continued exploration even if contact is lost with Foundation assets. The drone will continue exploration until the battery is fully depleted.
Due to the frequent loss of connection with Sia-L192, the exploration log has been split into sections for each period of transmission from the drone.
Time: 20:11
[EXTRANEOUS FOOTAGE REMOVED]
Sia-L192 has reached a depth of 3,000m. Erratic clicking noises can be heard around the drone, though all cameras observe no abnormalities in the tunnel. Two light sources appear below and move upward, found to be originating from two mechanical entities that resemble Praecambridium sigillum[footnote]An extinct species superficially resembling trilobites, known to have been extant during the Edicaran Period (~555 million years ago).[/footnote] organisms. Seven mechanical arms are attached to their undersides and lights are attached to their fronts. The lights on the entities repeatedly flash red and their mechanical arms grab onto Sia-L192.
Contact with the drone is temporarily lost.
Time: 21:19
The drone is descending at its normal rate, though all ability for it to move on its own is inhibited. After two hours it reaches an exit to SCP-3XXX-B, entering a dark space. The rate of descent increases and the built-in STALKER tracking device observes the drone rapidly transporting between a number of locations under Antarctica and the Lunar surface, suggesting the existence of spatial anomalies. Indiscernible objects move around the drone. The drone's flood lamps fail to illuminate any surroundings.
Bright flashes of light occur above the drone. The flashes illuminate glacier-like structures extending from above and in front of Sia-L192. Mechanical entities crawl along the sides, drilling at the surface and breaking off chunks of ice that are grabbed onto by metal tendrils and dragged into the darkness. Each flash originates from ice chunks that spontaneously convert into a purple material. Silhouettes of swarms of organisms and two SCP-3XXX-C instances near Sia-L192 are seen during the flashes.
Higher than average muon emission levels are detected.
Contact with the drone is temporarily lost.
Time: 21:56
Red lights flash around Sia-L192 in ring patterns. The patterns extend above and below for an unknown distance, implying that the drone is descending down a cylindrical tunnel. The upwards-facing camera is completely obscured by SCP-3XXX-C exoskeleton. Analysis of the footage following the conclusion of the exploration found that each red light belonged to towers extending horizontally from the tunnel walls, matching Bannard's drawings of the tower anomaly.
Contact with the drone is temporarily lost.
Time: 23:01
On the floor of a dark, expansive area is a large ring-shaped moat, filled with glowing haemorozin that occasionally splashes against the moat's sides and spills out. As the drone descends it spots the haemorozin forming hundreds of conical protrusions. Each protrusion forms a set of tendrils, climbs up up the moat walls, and progressively grows non-mechanical features present on SCP-3XXX-C instances as they drag themselves along the ground.
The amount of audiovisual interference greatly increases, rendering most of the following 12 minutes of footage useless. The remaining footage shows Sia-L192 suddenly fall and collide with the ground. Contact with the drone is temporarily lost.
Time: 4:47
Only one camera on Sia-L192 remains functioning. The only data being transmitted is that from the camera and the drone's microphones, though occasional corrupted data on muon emissions is sent. The area around the drone is pitch-black, though it occasionally "wavers." Sounds from the microphone suggest the drone is submerged in a liquid.
A dark, gaseous figure manifests. Observable details include a roughly humanoid upper torso, three arms that stretch for thrice the length of the body, and two holes in the head. The lower torso is indiscernible. The figure wavers, arms circling around its body as it shifts shape into amorphous forms. Its arms expand into fractals with four- and seven-fold symmetry.
SCP-3XXX-B demanifests. Contact with the drone is permanently lost.
Afterward: A subsequent SCP-3XXX-B manifestation produced an SCP-3XXX-C instance that was found to be carrying Sia-L192, which had been embedded with a wide number of unidentified devices. The phrase "below is where truths and gods lie — join" had been engraved on the drone's chassis.
SCP-V - Null-Toronto
Item #: SCP-V
Object Class: Neutralized (Formerly Safe)
Special Containment Procedures: Displaying archived procedures. A blah has been constructed around SCP-V, with interior cameras to detect any entities or objects that may attempt to leave SCP-V-A.
Description: SCP-V was an immobile structure with a similar shape to Henry Moore's sculpture The Archer. The anomaly lacked any apparent depth of shadows, appearing to be a white silhouette.
SCP-V-A was an extradimensional area that resembled Toronto, Ontario, Canada in appearance. All buildings and structures possessed the same appearance as SCP-V, with similar spatial properties that allowed subjects to walk indefinitely into the surface of buildings, entering a white space of unknown size. The only building that did not possess this property was the analog of the CN Tower. The sky of SCP-V-A was in a permanent sunrise, with a few immobile clouds in the vicinity. The western sky was black with gray tones near the horizon.
Kant counters detected an abnormally low static Hume level of 0.01, though no visual distortion, spatial changes, and anomaly creation that typically occurs in such conditions was observed.
SCP-V manifested inside the Sébastien Construction Products Inc.[footnote] A Foundation front and entrance to Site-201, located in Toronto.on [BLAH, appearing on the second floor of the building.
On [BLAH] MTF Chi-1 ("Poke Test") was dispatched to perform an initial exploration of SCP-V-A. [BLAH]. χ-1 was able to relocate SCP-V and exit into baseline reality, though Laydon was stuck within SCP-V-A for four days, during which the audio and video devices on him recording his exploration of the area. Multiple attempts were made to use autonomous machines to explore SCP-V-A, each of which failed due to connection instability.
On [BLAH] SCP-V began to rapidly change shape, at which point Agent Laydon exited the anomaly. One minute after his arrival he underwent a rapid amount of bodily decomposition, resulting in his body being dissolved. An hour later SCP-V shrank in size and vanished, and is presumed to be neutralized. The condition of SCP-V-A is unknown.
Addendum-1: Agent [BLAH] Laydon Recording Transcripts:
Thanks to (names) for crit!
CUT CONTENT
Date: 7th o**f August, 2017
Blah
Date: Blah
Blah
SCP Foundation Research and Development Board
Proposal to Create a Limitless Blood Supply to Ensure the Continued Existence of SCP-7040
Proposal Code: R&D-19386-7040
Involved Researchers: Dr. [BLAH] Laydon, Dr. [BLAH], Dr. [BLAH]
Summary: Written by Dr. Laydon. Every day [TEXT ILLEGIBLE] blah
Required Resources:
Date: Blah
Blah
DOCUMENT CLEARANCE LEVEL: GHAYN
All personnel authorized.
Item ▓: SCP-7040
Object Class: Thaumiel
Threat Level: White
Special Containment Procedures: As of 18-Mar-2017, SCP-7040-Ūr has been created at Provisional Site-7040, and will provide all blood necessary for SCP-7040-Feoh. SCP-7040-Ūr must be stored within a ventilated containment chamber with drainage holes on the floor, hooked up to [TEXT ILLEGIBLE]rder to determine the anomaly's health, supply required substances, and prevent unnecessary growth. An automated mechanical syste███████████m is responsible the packaging and movement of blood from SCP-7040-Ūr's containment unit to Foundation sites capable of automated SCP-7040-Feoh performance, transported via Xiulan Matter Displacers.
Personnel are not allowed to perform SCP-7040-Feoh unless required by religious beliefs, due to potential health risks. [GIBBERISH EXPUNGED] faith personnel are allowed to use their own blood or blood supplied by SCP-7040-Ūr in the ritual.
In the event of the death of SCP-7040-Ūr, Protocol Eschaton-Naught will be reenacted. This protocol requires blood from global blood banks and other organizations to be provided to the Foundation, and all personnel are advised to perform SCP-7040-Feoh.
Description: SCP-7040 is a thaumaturgic entity located within the center of the [TEXT ILLEGIBLE] Void, known as RRRRRRRRR[TEXT ILLEGIBLE] by followers of the O█r█t█ religion and members of the GoI-5681 ("The Reformed Church ofofofofofof). The entity appears to be composed light bent by hundreds of high gravity regions, some of which bend unknown quantities of blood and unknown fluids through and around it.
SCP-7040-Feoh is a ritual used to teleport blood to SCP-7040. The ritual requires a solid object, carved with an acute heptagram, four rhombuses, and thaumaturgic symbols TS-1274, TS-9004, TS-7680, TS-TS-TS, and Once blood lands on the object it will fill the carved symbols and be transported to the █████ Void Testing indicates that any form of blood from any species █an █e █sed, █ot █ust █uman █lood as was previously presumed.
SCP-7040-Ūr is an organic [TEXT ILLEGIBLE] he anoamly is capable of producing an indefinite supply of human blood of varying blood type, done through a series of anomalous biological processes similar to cellular respiration. A circular pattern of pores with a radius of 0.25 meters release the blood from the body. This process can produce ~50.6 gallons of blood a day when SCP-7040-Ūr is at full health. Due to
Addendum.1 - SCP-7040-Feoh Guide and Safety Precautions: [TEXT ILLEGIBLE]
Date: Blah
Blah
Date:
Blah
Date: Blah
Blah