Useful templates and other bits to copy and paste

TEXT-DESCRIBING-THE-PIC

Item #: SCP-XXXX

Object Class: Safe/Euclid/Keter (indicate which class)

Special Containment Procedures: [Paragraphs explaining the Procedures]

Description: [Paragraphs explaining the Description]

Addendum: [Optional additional paragraphs]

'''Incident:''' Main Location, SCP, Date, or Personnel involved.

SCP involved:

Personnel involved: (Optional)

Date: (can be blocked out)

Location: (can be blocked out)

Description:

[Description of Events]

===Optional===

Addendum:

Document# XXX-XX: [Document Title]

[Document]

These are final drafts of work that I've posted to the SCP wiki, as they existed prior to publication.

Live Versions: SCP-1875, The Keterlord, SCP-1343

SCP-XXXX location (left)

Item #: SCP-XXXX

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is to be contained on location at the abandoned construction site in the northernmost tube of the ████████ Tunnel Complex.

Until removal plans for SCP-XXXX are finalized, public use of the adjacent southern tunnel tubes will continue. On-site staff are to monitor all tunnel tubes periodically, and to report unusual observations.

In the event of a SCP-XXXX-1 sighting, on-site staff will direct local authorities to redirect traffic before notifying Overwatch HQ.

Description: SCP-XXXX is a sealed concrete 10 x 10 x 12 meter container that municipal construction workers discovered buried in a hillside in ██████ █████ County, California, in 19██. The container's contents are not currently known to the Foundation.

Initial attempts to drill through SCP-XXXX resulted in a series of severe traffic collisions in the active tunnel tube adjacent to the construction site.³ Construction of the northernmost tube stopped in 197█ when the project was formally halted due to budget shortfalls. The Foundation took over the site in 1982, after local authorities recorded the first images of SCP-XXXX-1.⁴

SCP-XXXX-1, as recorded by █████ Police officer's dashboard camera, 1982

SCP-XXXX-1 appears to be a severely damaged 195█ Ford Thunderbird. The vehicle has been sighted periodically in the active highway tunnels adjacent to SCP-XXXX. It appears each year on █████ █ at approximately ██:██ hours, and it has appeared on other occasions after SCP-XXXX has been disturbed.

In a typical sighting, SCP-XXXX-1 appears when a witness rounds a turn approximately ███ meters into the tunnel, at which point drivers have described the entity accelerating toward them while engulfed in flames. Believing a head-on collision to be imminent, most witnesses react by swerving into the tunnel's walls or into oncoming traffic.

The Foundation estimates that SCP-XXXX-1 has resulted in approximately ██ civilian traffic accidents, with 93% involving driver and/or passenger fatalities.

Addendum-1: Excerpt from ██████ █████ Times, Police Reports - █████ █, 195█

**

Saturday, 2:53 a.m. – An accident involving a gasoline truck in the north tube set off a fire in the ████████ Tunnel Complex. The accident caused major damage, and all tubes were closed to traffic while repairs were made. During the fire, the tunnels acted as a natural chimney venting the smoke, flames and heat toward the east side entrance to the tunnel.

The accident and fire killed seven people. In all, two people died in the initial crashes, five were killed by the smoke and fire, and two were hospitalized for smoke inhalation. All others escaped unharmed.

Several survivors closest to the initial pileup each described an overturned Ford Thunderbird with an 8th driver trapped inside, who was last seen struggling to free himself from the burning vehicle. However, no driver or vehicle matching this description has been discovered among the pileup wreckage.

**

The Keterlord

The Keterlord sighed, slumped on his stool, and stared down through his nearly-empty glass at the grain lines on the bar's wooden surface. Today was his birthday, but nobody at work had remembered or bothered to recognize it.

He didn't feel much like a Keterlord at this moment, nor much like a lord of anything really—just another Foundation clock puncher who'd punched out for the day, now drinking himself into oblivion until the time came to punch in again tomorrow morning.

He despised the nickname. The security grunts had given it to him on account of a certain, regrettable question he'd asked during his second day of orientation at Site 19. And it had stuck. Even now, nearly five years later, he was positive that at least a few of his colleagues didn't know his real name.

"Fuck 'em," he muttered, before sucking down the last of his drink and pushing the empty glass toward the bartender: "Another scotch, neat." He was so accustomed to being addressed as "Keterlord" or "The Keterlord" that sometimes it felt more real to him than what his mother called him.

That fateful orientation question had seemed benign enough at the time he asked it. After all, he held a PhD in Materials Science from MIT. He'd simply been curious about the choice of metals in a few of the Keter-class containment cells. But the wording of the question—"Don't you think it would be better if…"—had made him sound like a know-it-all, like an overconfident kid trying to assert his self-assured cockiness before he'd actually proved himself.

But the Keterlord had proved himself, eventually, despite those early months of second-rate assignments and supervisors taking credit for his work. He had designed countless metals, polymers, and composites to meet the Foundation's ever-expanding needs. From a fabric that could stop knives to a plastic strong enough to mold into firearms, he'd churned out new patents like they were lab reports. Still his colleagues mocked him with that nickname, even as his work produced containment cells strong enough to hold God himself.

The Keterlord grinned at that thought as he sipped his drink. God descends to earth with trumpets blaring and holy fire raging, only for the Foundation to drag him off and lock him up in a five-by-five cell. Any prophets would get "Class C amnesiacs" of course, which as he understood was only the latest O5 euphemism for a bullet to the head.

He downed the remaining scotch and pushed the glass forward. As he looked up to find the bartender, he noticed a woman at the other end of the room, sitting at a table alone, and looking in his direction. He could see green eyes behind her black-rimmed, technocratic glasses. Her dark brown hair contained a few streaks of grey, a few shades lighter than her charcoal suit.

The Keterlord undressed her in his scotch-addled mind. She looked familiar—had he seen her at the Site 19 mess? Perhaps elsewhere? Before he could place her, she was leaning against the bar next to him, and he could feel the warmth of her side through his coat.

"You work at the farm," she said.

"I don't—"

"Relax. I do too, and I know you recognized me sitting over there." She smiled and raised two fingers to signal the bartender, who slid two full glasses to her.

"Tough day?" she asked.

"Don't want to talk about it."

"That's alright," she said, handing him one of the glasses.

"Thanks," he said, knocking back the drink in one motion. "I haven't seen you here before. What's your—" the Keterlord stopped mid-sentence as he felt the liquor hit his bloodstream, "your," but he couldn't get the last word out.

"Are you alright?" she asked with a concerned look.

"I—" his vision began to blur. "I—"

The last thing he saw was a discrete smile creep across the woman's face, then it all went black.

___

He awoke violently to a bucket of ice water poured over his head, which ached terribly, seated in a cold metal chair in a dark room.

"Where am I?" he said, "What is this?" Then he remembered the woman in grey, the drink she'd given him.

The room was pitch black, and even as his eyes adjusted, all he could see were the outlines of several figures in the darkness. He tried to move, but his wrists were cuffed behind his back, and he'd been strapped to the chair with thick nylon webbing. He heard voices whispering.

"… . think he's awake … don't get too close … "

"THE MIGHTY KETERLORD HIMSELF, I PRESUME!" another voice boomed from out of the darkness.

"I'm not—" he felt tears welling up.

"Don't try to deny it," a voice cut him off, "We know what you are, Keterlord, and you belong to us now."

"You don't understand," said the Keterlord, "I'm just an—"

"Just a what?" a third voice said, "A monster? A weapon? A plaything of your beloved Foundation?"

"No! … I mean, wait … what?"

"—a God?" said one of the voices, "An immortal? A de—"

"STOP!" yelled the Keterlord, "Yes … YES … I AM THE KETERLORD!!" He heard feet shuffling nervously around him. "AND YOU MUST RELEASE ME! RELEASE ME, OR I WILL … I'LL, ummm … DESTROY YOUR MINDS WITH … with … FIRE … yes, WITH FIRE!!" A long silence ensued.

"Impossible!" yelled one of the voices, "for we are wearing armor made from the purest telekill alloy!"

"Chief, that's not entirely—"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up! You know what, fuck you guys! Can't anybody deal with a little bit of goddam ad-libbing?! Anybody?!"

"This is embarrassing. Carl, just turn on the lights already."

The lights flashed on, and the Keterlord realized he was in a room full of his coworkers. A large sheet cake sat on the table in front of him.

"SURPRISE!" they yelled, some less enthusiastically than others.

SCP-XXXX-01 (drive shaft not visible)

Item #: SCP-XXXX

Object Class: Euclid

Next Scheduled November-77 Exercise: In Progress

Special Containment Procedures:

In addition to Dr. Khohklov, the holding site's full-time staff must include at least two (2) network security experts, one (1) armed security guard, and one (1) child psychology specialist. SCP-XXXX components may not be assembled or activated without prior approval from Level-4 personnel. When the machine is fully assembled and activated, the speed adjustment lever on SCP-XXXX-03 may not be set to "V" (maximum speed) without direct supervision by Dr. Khohklov, or a Level-4 proxy certified by Overwatch HQ.

Electronic devices with data storage capacity may not be introduced to the facility (except during Exercise XXXX-November-77), and all individuals must be screened for such devices prior to entering the holding site. To facilitate research efforts, the container must also include: one (1) research workbench, one (1) high-speed laser printer, one (1) industrial-grade scrap metal shredder, and one (1) gasoline generator to power the shredder and printer.

In the event of Exercise XXXX-November-77, Overwatch HQ will permit one (1) designated and clearly-marked laptop computer to be taken into SCP-XXXX's primary shielded container. Upon completion of November-77, facility staff must ensure this designated laptop is shredded completely before the container door is opened and research personnel are allowed to exit. Research data may only be removed from the container in the form of a paper printout.

SCP-XXXX must be kept in a container enclosed by a faraday cage, and must never come within transmission range of any wireless data network. The container's locking mechanism must have a fully mechanical manual override, and may never be linked to a networked computer.

Evidence of XXXX-IMG-05 exposure should be reported to Overwatch HQ immediately. Any individual(s) exposed to XXXX-IMG-05 must immediately be isolated from all computers and network devices, and placed in physical restraints for their own safety.

Description: SCP-XXXX is a Victorian-era chess automaton⁵ consisting of four principal components, hereafter referred to as SCP-XXXX-01, SCP-XXXX-02, SCP-XXXX-03, and SCP-XXXX-04.

SCP-XXXX-01
A steel chessboard table, with a standard eight-by-eight grid of 64 checkered squares painted on its surface. Based on its composition and patina, research staff have identified the exact material as English crucible steel, likely cast between 182█ and 187█. Length, width, & height each measured 76.2 centimeters upon intake following Mobile Task Force █████-█'s retrieval of SCP-████, SCP-████, and SCP-XXXX from abandoned laboratory facility discovered on ██/██/199█ beneath former residence of ███████████ University Professor ██████ M███████ in ███████████shire, England.

A drive shaft, designed to connect with SCP-XXXX-03, protrudes from one side of the system's otherwise-seamless enclosure. The table contains a sophisticated mechanical and biological system that controls a matrix of 64 electromagnets using an analytical engine composed of the combined brain tissue of the twin daughters (designated SCP-XXXX-01/a and -01/b) of Russian chess prodigy ██████ ███████████.

Researchers have developed several theories regarding the control mechanism's functional specifications, but the nature of its biological component and possible sentience remain unverified.
Each square on the chessboard's surface sits above a single electromagnet, and each electromagnet can move one (1) chess piece (See: SCP-XXXX-02) to one of eight (8) neighboring squares. Original inventor(s) and fabricator(s) also remain unknown.⁶

SCP-XXXX-02
A complete set of 32 chess pieces carved in the Oriental style from human bone. Each piece is affixed with a thin (0.3125 cm) base pad of ferromagnetic iron. Samples of the bone used for the pieces have been matched genetically with tissue samples from SCP-XXXX-01/a and SCP-XXXX-01/b.

Following the recovery of SCP-XXXX-01, an anonymous individual associated with Professor M███████'s estate submitted information to Foundation personnel regarding SCP-XXXX-02, leading to its subsequent discovery in the possession of chess enthusiast █████ H██████ in New York City's Washington Square Park. An undercover MTF agent relieved Mr. H██████ of the chess set and escaped with it on foot to a nearby Foundation facility entrance.

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SCP-XXXX-03
A stationary steam engine manufactured by Maudslay, Sons & Field (c. 1840) on permanent loan to the Foundation from the estate of Professor M███████. The steam engine designed to attach to and spin SCP-XXXX-01's drive shaft. Unlike other examples of this table engine model, SCP-XXXX-03 has been modified to allow for adjustable speed via a lever attached to its centrifugal governor. The engine has five (5) speed settings, labeled (slowest to fastest): I, II, III, IV, and V.

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SCP-XXXX-04
A suit of 18th century Samurai armor in the Gusoku style. Arrived in storage case with SCP-XXXX-03, courtesy of Professor M███████'s estate. Historical evidence suggests that SCP-XXXX-04 would have been situated on a chair beside the chess table, serving as a performance. Staff have not observed any objectively unusual activities, however, several visiting researchers have reported prolonged feelings of anxiety after making eye contact with armor's face plate.

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Addendum-01: Intake Report

Addendum-02: Incident XXXX-55A

Addendum-03: Incident XXXX-55B

Addendum-04: Exercise XXXX-November-77

A catalogue of failures and partially-completed drafts that I may return to at a later date.

Item #: SCP-000

Object Class: AAA

Special Containment Procedures: The firm's headquarters at 15 Central Park West, New York City, is to remain under 24-hour guard by members of MTF Delta-1 urban combat division and Delta-2 sniper division.

Only O5 personnel, or designated proxies thereof, may communicate with employees of the firm.

Description: Maudslay LLC is a privately-owned multinational insurance and financial services company, with offices in New York City, London, Zurich, Hong Kong, Tokyo, Shanghai, Moscow, Dubai, Mexico City, São Paulo, Cairo, Johannesburg, ███████, ████████, ███ ████, and George Town (Cayman Islands).

The firm's history began in 1798 when Henry Maudslay founded Henry Maudslay and Co. as an engine manufacturing company in Birmingham, England. In 1833, the company became Maudslay, Sons & Field, formally a subsidiary of [REDACTED] shipping steam engines to the United States for use in The Factory the factory.

The firm continued manufacturing engines until 193█, when American investor ██████ ███████ purchased a controlling share of the company, believing that its price was substantially below its intrinsic value. Mr. ███████ gradually diversified the company's interests with a preference toward financial services, shutting down its last manufacturing facility in 195█.

What is it that you think you're reading, researcher? I assure you that's all you want to know about Maudslay LLC and I'd strongly discourage you from attempting any further inquiry.

Why don't you to step into my office for a moment—it's just down the hall. Stop trembling! I'm just an old accountant … couldn't hurt you if I wanted to.

And here we are … a bit cavernous, I know. Have a seat, please. Would you care for a glass of brandy? You sure? Well, I'm going to have one.

Now, before you break into another filing cabinet to satisfy your unending curiosity, I want you to ask yourself a very simple question: Do you really want to know where our money comes from?

And while you're asking yourself that question, here are a few more: Do you like our enormous research budgets, our state-of-the-art equipment and facilities? And your security detail—are they crowding you? Perhaps you'd prefer to work without them. We'd gladly issue you a side arm, even provide some after-hours firearms training.

And what of the D-class we give you? Do you like having an endless supply of disposable human guinea pigs to run every last goddamned test? Perhaps you'd like to use chimps or pigs or dogs instead—that's what NASA did, you know.

Or perhaps you'd like to take their place.

I'm not trying to frighten you. But did you know that it would save us approximately $71 million each fiscal quarter if we replaced all the D-class with junior-level research staff? Sure, the D-class don't get paid quite as much, but we need to feed them and house them, guard them and kill them. And the bribes—my god, the bribes we have to pay to get them in the first place—those have only gotten steeper under the Obama administration.

What I'm getting at here is that cuts to our personnel budget could be quite hazardous for employees at your pay grade.

And speaking of pay grades, did you know that we have to pay higher and higher salaries every year just to retain our best people? After all, we can't have our most brilliant scientists running off to DARPA, our most elite sharpshooters leaving us for Blackwater. And I'll say this much: hazard pay for contractors in Afghanistan is pocket change compared to what we have to pay some of our senior people to work a Keter detail.

Could you hand me that bottle, please? I think I need another pour.

I'd sure like to know where you think we get our budget—it's not John Q. Taxpayer, that's for certain. Sure, back in the old days, we'd get a substantial slice of the War Department budget, almost enough to run the whole show.

Well, that slice got smaller and smaller with time. Ulysses S. Grant—now there was a President who understood our needs. I remember standing in that man's office, holding a blank check from the U.S. Treasury Department. That was a good day.

Roosevelt—the first one—also the first Commander-in-Chief to raid our budget. Said he needed more funding for some damned nation-building experiment in the Philippines. Well, we lost a lot of good men that year because we were underfunded and underequipped. The O5s resolved never to let that that happen again, and slowly we began to privatize our operations.

Nothing like that turncoat, Marshall, of course. We only lent items to people who knew what they were getting into—never to wealthy socialites, or any members of the public for that matter.

Most of our clients are foreign governments. I don't know why I'm telling you this—perhaps it's the brandy talking.

And before you raise any ethical concerns, I'll remind you of what the United States government does in the open light of day. Although, I suppose that selling a few dozen military aircraft to South American juntas and Saudi kings is about as innocent as a child's lemonade stand compared to some of the deals we've made over the years.

You won't find details on any of these … transactions, at least in the materials you have access to. But along with our ever-expanding fiscal requirements, we have a vested interest in ensuring that the global balance of power continues to tilt in our favor.

We also engage in a healthy amount of financial speculation to supplement our revenue—that's where Maudslay LLC comes in. We give them access to a few items that allow them to peer a few minutes into the future.

And if you're familiar with SCP-1875—well, that was an early invention of one of their founding partners. And they still use that same sort of … technology, far more advanced versions of it, to power their trading computers.

No, they work for us. Some of my colleagues joke that we're just a hedge fund that happens to own the Foundation, but that's truly not the case.

Do you really think any insurance firm on earth would give us coverage for the type of work we do? The truth is that our assets are vast, but our liabilities are—I don't enjoy speaking about them.

I don't suppose you've ever started a global war to stop a larger one from occurring, so I won't expect you to understand. But in the aftermath of world war two, we decided we need our own firm. So we built Maudslay LLC. We built it from the ashes of the Factory—you'd have to ask O5-1 about that.

There was a management team. People who got away. When we found them, they'd long since changed industries—moved from manufacturing to finance. Set up shop on Wall Street. About to open the largest initial public offering in history.

We stopped that IPO—it was one of the most legally complex containments ever accomplished, and I oversaw it myself. The Firm remains a private corporation, and its darkest truths are kept secure beyond any clearance level I could issue.

That's all I care to say about Maudslay.

The only other thing you need to know is that the Foundation pays its bills. We have to pay them. Because good people cost money, reliable equipment costs money, and we take only the best of both. The stakes are too high for us to do anything else.

Now, run along researcher. I hope your curiosity is satisfied. Because if I ever catch you looking into that file again, there's a trading desk at the Firm ready just for you. Well, some pieces of you anyway.

Sample of SCP-1399-1 (with coin for scale)

Item #: SCP-1399

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: Mobile Task Force Chi-9 (aka "Narcs") has been established to locate and recover uncontained samples of SCP-1399-1 and instances of SCP-1399-2. Both MTF and research staff assigned to SCP-1399 must submit to random toxicology screens. Failure to produce a clean urine sample will result in immediate quarantine and reassignment, pending disciplinary review.

Samples of SCP-1399-1 are to be stored in a weight-sensitive vault at Site-19. Vault access requires two-factor authentication, and removing any amount of the substance requires certified authorization from a Level-4 supervisor. SCP-1399-1 samples removed from the vault for testing may be subject to random weight and purity inspections by designated accountability officers. SCP-1399-1 may only be administered to Class D personnel, and only for authorized research purposes. Use, theft, or sale of any amount of SCP-1399-1 by Foundation staff will result in severe disciplinary action.

SCP-1399-2 are to be housed in a secure facility at Site-19. The facility's interior is to be monitored at all times with ultraviolet-spectrum video surveillance equipment. SCP-1399-2 must remain in this facility at all times; they are not permitted to visit or interact with individuals outside the facility, or with Foundation personnel not assigned to SCP-1399.

The entity designated 1399-3-E1 is to be contained by itself in a 3 x 5 x 3 meter holding cell of reinforced steel at least 5 centimeters in thickness, and to be observed at all times. Any sign of interaction between SCP-1399-2 and SCP-1399-3 must be reported immediately to Level-4 supervisor via designated secure comms link. Security personnel may not attempt to capture, engage, or otherwise disturb instances of SCP-1399-3 without a direct order from a Level-4 supervisor.

Description: SCP-1399-1 is a highly addictive psychoactive drug (methylenedioxy██████████████████) with stimulant properties, typically appearing as a clumpy, crystalline powder that is white and odorless in its purest form. It is one of a growing number of "designer drugs"⁷ that are typically labeled and sold as consumer products in order to avoid criminalization.⁸

The acute physical and psychological effects of SCP-1399-1 typically resemble those of methamphetamine. However, long-term users are known to experience increasingly intense visual aberrations that will persist even after discontinuing the drug. These symptoms were once thought to be hallucinations as a result of ordinary amphetamine psychosis, until subsequent Foundation research disproved that conclusion.

The Foundation became aware of SCP-1399-1's anomalous effects following a ██████████████ University study involving stimulant addicts. MTF Chi-9 operatives have since traced the supply chain of all extant samples of SCP-1399-1 to a single factory in ████████████, Azerbaijan, which ceased operations in December 2011. Although production has stopped, the total amount of SCP-1399-1 that remains on the open market is unknown.

SCP-1399-2 is the collective designation for all individuals who have insufflated, smoked, injected, or otherwise consumed any amount of SCP-1399-1. Members of SCP-1399-2 include both Class D test subjects and individuals delivered into Foundation custody by MTF Chi-9.

Foundation researchers have linked the visual aberrations experienced by SCP-1399-2 to the development of two additional sets of cone cells⁹ in the retinas of their eyes, resulting in pentachromatic vision.¹⁰ Along with a ███-fold improvement in chromatic discrimination, SCP-1399-2 are able to perceive a broader spectrum of visible light than normal human vision allows. Testing has demonstrated that subjects are able to see portions of the infrared spectrum up to wavelengths of ██ µm, and of the ultraviolet spectrum down to wavelengths of ███ nm.¹¹

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Figure I: Comparative Visible Light Range, Normal Human vs. SCP-1399-2

SCP-1399-3 is the collective designation for a group of entities that have declined to identify themselves and resisted the research staff's attempts at communication. Their forms reflect only certain wavelengths of ultraviolet light, rendering them effectively invisible to humans other than SCP-1399-2. Very little is known about SCP-1399-3 at this time, including the precise nature of their interactions with SCP-1399-2. However, research observations indicate that SCP-1399-3 were present in human environments before SCP-1399-1 was first synthesized.

SCP-1399-3-E1 is the designation for a SCP-1399-3 entity that security personnel successfully captured and contained on January ██, 2012. Containment was sustained for approximately 96 hours, before [REDACTED], resulting in its escape and the deaths of █ Foundation personnel and █ members of SCP-1399-2, as well as the blinding of ██ additional members of SCP-1399-2. Containment procedures were revised following this incident, and authorized personnel are encouraged to review Addendum-02 below for additional details.

Addendum-01: Excerpt from SCP-1399-2 Interview Logs

Addendum-02: O5 Memorandum re: SCP-1399-3-E1

Item #: SCP-XXX-J

Object Class: Safe¹²

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXX-J is to be kept in a 3 x 3 x 3 meter steel container in the Site-19 gym. The container must have 1 30 x 30 cm plexiglass viewing window approximately 1.5 meters from the floor. A button connected to a single light source inside the container is to be installed below this window.

To encourage cardiovascular fitness among Foundation staff, the Health and Fitness Department encourages all Site-19 employees to incorporate SCP-XXX-J viewing sessions into their daily exercise regimens. Viewing photographs of SCP-XXX-J at home is also effective, and gym staff encourage employees to dim their lights before doing so in order to maximize heart health benefits.

Amended 04/██/2012: A rubberized tarp is to be placed on the floor beneath the window of SCP-XXX-J, and a vending machine with clean uniform pants is to be installed in the immediate vicinity.

Description: SCP-XXX-J is a [REDACTED], found in the remote village of [REDACTED], which was left abandoned after [REDACTED] nuclear disaster when eerie voices were heard echoing through the nearby forest. Research staff have compared SCP-XXX-J's effect to that of certain species of startleghost (see: SCP-████) as well as the "howling nightmare" bipeds of Argentina (see: SCP-████).

The appearance of SCP-XXX-J is difficult to describe, as it changes each time it is viewed. Maintenance staff and gym visitors have described the creature both as "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" and "NOPE! NOPE! NOPE! NOPE! NOPE!" According to some accounts, its eyes are bottomless black pits, and to stare into them is like staring into the shapeless void of hell itself. Silent, unflinching terror is also a common reaction.

Side effects of viewing SCP-XXX-J or a photograph of it include night terrors, insomnia, loose bowels, and girlish screaming. SCP-XXX-J is also known to haunt the computers of anyone who dares to view its likeness on a screen.

Addendum: Photographs

+ As Viewed 03/██/2011

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+ As Viewed 08/██/2011

- [COME JOIN US]

+ As Viewed 01/██/2012

- [SCREECH! SCREECH! SCREECH! SCREECH!]

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