Drewbear's Sandbox - SCP Sandbox Wiki I

Item #: SCP-1788

Object Class: Safe Euclid

Special Containment Procedures:

Given the non-local nature of SCP-1788, it is impossible to fully prevent non-Foundation access to it, and non-Foundation access has been reported by SCP-1788-1 to have occurred no less than ██ times prior to the Foundation becoming aware of SCP-1788 and enacting current containment protocols.¹ As such, containment measures are largely focused on educating populations likely to accidentally access SCP-1788 on how to avoid doing so, under the guise of public service announcements. Although it appears that SCP-1788 is only able to make one connection at a time, there is a single recorded instance wherein a loud beep sounded, without originating from either terminus of the active connection.

All communication via SCP-1788 is to be performed in a quiet room, with all sound originating from the anomalous end of SCP-1788 recorded for later analysis. Although SCP-1788 may be accessed at any time for monitoring purposes, any communications with SCP-1788-1 must be performed in a whisper, and should be restricted to between the hours of 1730 GMT and 0900 GMT. Conversations are to occur no more than once per day, barring ambient sounds indicative of an emergency situation, and may be concluded at the request of SCP-1788-1.

Description:

SCP-1788 is a phone number that can only be reached by international dialing. The country code is ███, which is not in use, but very similar to one of those assigned to [REDACTED]. It is currently presumed that all accidental accesses of SCP-1788 are a result of mis-dialing the country code. When any phone connection is used to dial SCP-1788², the connection picks up after one ring. The other end of the connection apparently manifests as an intangible point in space fixed approximately 5 cm from the right ear of SCP-1788-1. This point functions as both a speaker and microphone and is able to receive ambient environmental sounds in addition to the voice of SCP-1788-1. Per SCP-1788-1, any communication that originates from the non-anomalous end of SCP-1788 is approximately as loud as if the source was standing next to SCP-1788-1 and speaking at the same volume.

SCP-1788-1 is self-reportedly a human male by the name of Efrain ████████, a former citizen of [REDACTED]. He reports that he fell asleep in his residence on 06/21/20██ and woke up in his current environs, which consist of the overgrown ruins of an unknown city located in a tropical environment. SCP-1788-1 is largely uncooperative with attempts to converse with him, due to fear of attracting the attention of local predators. He is also displaying an increasing degree of annoyance and anger towards the Foundation due to the frequency of contacts made to him.

Interview Logs (translated from Spanish):

Interview 1

Dr. B████: (clears throat) Hello?

SCP-1788-1: (loud) Shitshitshit! (continues in a forced whisper for the remainder of the interview) Shut up, you idiot! Who the fuck is it this time?!

Dr. B████: (lowers his voice for the remainder of the interview) My name is Dr. B████. The group I work for learned abou-

SCP-1788-1: Fuck, more than one of you are working together now? What in the name of the Holy Mother do you want with me?

(the rustling of leaves can be heard in the background, increasing as if in a strengthening wind))

SCP-1788-1: Wait, what was that? Shit, there's some about a block away! Just shut up and leave me alone!

Dr. B████: Please wait. We mean you no harm. We just want to find out wh-

SCP-1788-1: Shut up! Not now! Not when they're so close!

All further attempts to communicate with SCP-1788-1 during this interview failed to elicit a response and the interview was concluded after approximately 5 minutes of hearing panting breaths and rustling vegetation.

Interview 362 - Orphaned Page

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Interview-362

Interviewed: J█████ S███, a 26 year old man who was found near the edge of SCP-362 upon its recovery.

Interviewer: Dr. R██████ Mace

Foreword: This interview was conducted to gain more insight in the events surrounding SCP-362 before it's acquisition by the Foundation, as well as the long term effects of exposure to SCP-362.

Dr. Mace: Hello, Mr. S███. Please sit down.

Mr. S███: Yes.

Dr. Mace: Well, let's begin the interview. How exactly did you end up inside SCP-362?

Mr. S███: I'd gone on a bike ride, and I saw that fence, and some buildings in the distance. I guess I was curious or something, so I went to take a look. And then I saw a woman, and she just pointed a gun at me when I got closer. Didn't have much choice then. Of course, neither did she.

Dr. Mace: For how long have you lived inside SCP-362?

Mr. S███: About two years. Funny, it seemed longer.

Dr. Mace: Did you ever try to escape?

Mr. S███: In the beginning, I did. But after a while, I realized it was no use. Leader would punish people who tried to find loopholes. (subject holds up left hand, which is missing three fingers). I got my name from this.

Dr. Mace: Your name?

Mr. S███: Leader wouldn't let us use our real names, just the ones he gave us. He called me Seven. To remind me, you see. So I wouldn't ever try to escape again. And I didn't.

Dr. Mace: What can you tell me about the substance found in the well in the town square?

Mr. S███: We used it as food, but it's the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted. No one knew what it was, or where it came from. If Leader knew, he never told us. And I'm not sure if I want to know. But it never made us ill, or anything. Weird, come to think of it. To be honest, that stuff scared the shit out of me, and it's not like I didn't have other things to be scared of in there. But there was something… well, I don't know. And then what happened to Missy…

Dr. Mace: For the record, can you tell me about this incident from the beginning?

Mr. S███: Okay. Well, Missy was… he used her as a… he raped her. Many times. And life wasn't great for any of us, but if you didn't try to abuse loopholes, and didn't say anything Leader didn't want you to say, then you wouldn't be punished. But Missy, she was always being punished, whether she deserved it or not. And she didn't want to go on any more. Everyone sort of knew that, already. But she couldn't commit suicide, because it was against the rules. But that day, she punctured her eardrums with a sharpened stick, just so that she wouldn't hear him any more. And she ran away but she still couldn't escape. And Leader didn't even want her back. So she stayed away for more than a month. Everyone thought she was dead, after some time. She had to be, right? We told each other that she was at peace now. That it was for the best. It may sound crazy, but it gave us hope. We didn't see much difference between dying and escaping, you know? She got away, we thought. Maybe we could, too. But then one evening, we found her inside one of the houses. She was all covered in food. You know, the stuff from the well. And she could hear again, just like that.

Dr. Mace: Did she tell you what had happened to her?

Mr. S███: She didn't remember. Even when Leader made her tell him everything, she still said she didn't know. She remembered falling asleep, and waking up days later, the way we found her.

Dr. Mace: Did she seem any different to you, after she came back?

Mr. S███: She was crushed, of course. She'd starved herself to death to get away from Leader, and now everything was just like it was before. But… yes, there was something else. She was afraid of things. Just perfectly ordinary things, you know? Like rain, or her own reflection. Hell, she was even afraid of trees for a while! And she kept telling everyone that she wasn't ever going to try again, that she was glad it hadn't worked, and we shouldn't try either, because it wouldn't solve anything…

Dr. Mace: Why is it that the police officers inside SCP-362 were found shot, while those who had been inside for a longer time were killed in a fire?

Mr. S███: I'm not sure, but… we were his, you see. We weren't supposed to leave. He had to make sure we didn't… come back. He yelled something after me when I ran, but I couldn't understand the words. But he knows, you see. And he told me he'd kill me rather than let me escape. He told me so many times.

Dr. Mace: Do you have any idea where we might find him?

Mr. S███: I don't know. Sometimes I think he's here. But that would be… that would be impossible, wouldn't it? But I really shouldn't be here. There's no way it'll last. He's going to find me and send me where the others are. Please, don't let him do that. I'm begging you.

Closing Statement: Subject was found to have committed suicide shortly after the interview.
An individual matching the original Alpha Subject's description was seen climbing over the wall from inside SCP-362. Subject was restrained, but tried to escape and was subsequently terminated.

And the Moon Sees Me

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Frank had always loved the stars. Ever since he was a kid, he had loved to just lie down in the backyard and bask in the starlight. He would count them and give them private, secret names and constellations, holding his joy in them close to his heart.

As he grew, his love only grew and he learned as much about them as he could: first their official designations and the constellations they fit into, then, with the succession of telescopes his parents bought for him, their spectrums and colors, hidden behind the white that was all most people could see.

It came as no surprise to any who knew him that he decided to major in astronomy once he left home for college. He quickly excelled, absorbing all the mathematics and physics that lay within the stars while resentfully slogging through the distracting and unnecessary classes that he was required to take, like literature and history. He made a few friends among his fellow classmates who would join him in weekend camping trips where they would hike and talk and enjoy the wilderness during the day and then set up their telescopes to take advantage of the less light-drowned night skies to see the glory of the heavens more clearly.

During spring break of his senior year, Frank and a couple of friends decided to take a week-long trip into the nearby mountains, staying at the cabin of one friend’s family. The moon was waxing full, which would wash the night with light, but by now they were all experienced in compensating for such distractions.

When spring break ended and none of them had yet returned, there were some mild rumors and speculations among their classmates, but most didn’t notice, didn’t care or simply dismissed the absences as a result of some massive hangover. When the campers had still not returned by the second week of classes, their roommates grew concerned and voiced their worries to the university administration and the police.

When the authorities finally drove up to the cabin to begin their search, they found the missing. One was dead of exposure, curled on the cold ground just outside the door. Two were lying inside next to a window, slumped and catatonic, staring out at the sky with unfixed eyes, starving and almost dead of dehydration.

Frank was nowhere to be found.

In the hurry to get the survivors to the hospital, no-one noticed that the lens of all three telescopes were broken, with crazy-cracks spread like a web across each one.

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Faded Glory: failed on mainlist, serious rewrite if I try this again

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Item #: SCP-428

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-428 is housed in a standard Humanoid Containment Suite, consisting of a bedroom/living area and a bathroom. It may be provided with reading material as it requests, with it showing a strong preference for ancient Greco-Roman mythology and epics. No unshielded electronics are allowed within 6 meters of SCP-428 and any personnel directly interacting with it should remove all metal objects on their person. No electroshock devices are allowed at the site housing SCP-428.

Under no circumstances is SCP-428 to ever be referred to by any nomenclature other than its item number. (See Addendum Zeta-9)

Description: SCP-428 appears to be an elderly male human standing 2.2 meters tall. It appears to be suffering from senility and mild dementia, as is commonly seen in disease processes such as Alzheimer's. Due to its variable levels of disorientation and confusion, it frequently requires reminders and assistance for bathing and dressing. Aside from its poor cognitive state, SCP-428 is in excellent physical health and rates in the 98^th percentile in strength, stamina and endurance for men of its apparent age. It is fluent in Old Greek and can write fluently in Latin and Egyptian hieroglyphics. It possesses a haughty and abrasive personality and appears to expect all individuals it encounters to defer to it.

It is capable of generating weak static electricity charges which it can direct and discharge towards any object within its line of sight. These charges are non-lethal and generally non-destructive, however, and pose no risk other than to ungrounded or unshielded electronics. It appears to sustain no ill effects from being exposed to these discharges, or any strength of electric current. It generally uses this ability when in a state of agitation, anger or confusion, but occasionally produces discharges without appearing to intend to.

It is also capable of projecting holographic images around itself, apparently with the intent of disguising itself. These images are typically those of darkly-complected men of apparent Mediterranean descent, but have also included a variety of male animals and atmospheric effects such as mists, clouds or rains. The holographs are see-through, however, and typically include a "wavering" quality similar to those seen in mirages. SCP-428 seems unaware of the poor quality of the images and that it can still be seen through them and will attempt to act in a manner consistent with the projected image. While projecting a hologram, it frequently attempts to forcibly initiate sexual congress with any member of staff it encounters, regardless of gender or age.

Addendum Zeta-6: While testing SCP-428's accuracy with its electrical discharges, Researcher B███████ used the exclamatory phrase "By Jove!" within hearing of SCP-428. Following this, SCP-428's accuracy improved by 37% and the strength of the charges increased by 13%. Its holograms were also visibly more opaque for approximately 3 days.

Item #: SCP-XXX

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: All instances of SCP-XXX are to be contained in a standard Safe-class locker. Instances of SCP-XXX are not to be installed on any motor vehicle except during experiments. Keys to the storage locker may be requested from Dr. Bjornson.

Description: SCP-XXX consists of 17 windshield wiper blades, identical in appearance to the 22" models manufactured by the ██████ Corporation.

When installed on a motor vehicle and in use to remove water from a windshield or rear window, instances of SCP-XXX rapidly and permanently degrade a random physical sense (approximately 50% loss within 25 minutes of exposure) of all persons within a 10 meter radius. The sensory degradation is random with regards to each individual and each time SCP-XXX is activated. The effect appears to affect passengers of the vehicle slightly stronger than people outside of the vehicle.

Testing has determined that the possibility of each physical sense being degraded occurs in the following approximations:

Hearing	22.5%
Pain	18.2%
Color Vision	12.8%
Balance	9.5%
Touch	8.0%
Motion	6.8%
Proprioception	6.3%
Taste	5.9%
Temperature	5.1%
Smell	4.8%

CT scans and MRI imaging of the brain taken immediately before and immediately after experimentation has shown changes commensurate with long-term hypoxic ischemic encephalopathy, exclusively located in the regions of the brain responsible for interpreting the degraded sense.

Addendum: SCP-XXX first came to the attention of the Foundation on ██/██/20██ after victims of 2 separate motor vehicle accidents were brought to ██████ ██████ Hospital in the town of █████████, ██, USA during a heavy thunderstorm. The 3 victims displayed total sensorineural deafness, debilitating vertigo and lack of pain to the extent that one victim had been found trying to walk on a leg with an open compound fracture. EMS personnel who responded were later found to have decreased visual acuity, near total lack of [REDACTED] and partial hearing loss.

Foundation examinations of the affected individuals, their vehicles and the environmental circumstances eventually revealed the first 5 instances of SCP-XXX, which had all recently been purchased from the ████ ████ █████, a local auto supplies store. Examination of store receipts allowed Foundation agents to locate the remainder of the SCP-XXX instances currently in containment and at least 13 more instances are believed to be uncontained.

Yoric's challenge

Game Day Phase 2: A Breath of Fresh Air: Exhale

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Audio Log, 14:25, ██/██/2011, Foundation front "Sunny Coast Productions"

M███ S████, Switchboard Operator: Thank you for calling Sunny Coast Productions, how may I direct your call?

Agent Debra Michaels: Yes, can I speak with Skip in the casting department? Or Charlie Foxtrot?

M███ S████: … One moment, please.

[MS places Agent Michaels on hold while reaching Site Security Director V████]

Director V████: You've reached "casting". Who are you and what do you want?

Agent Michaels: Hi, Skip, this is Deb Michaels, one of the stunt doubles and extras. I was calling to see if you'd started casting for "Does the Black Moon Howl".

Director V████: Not until the midnight sun bleeds. Are you free to talk? About the movie?

Agent Michaels: Well, I'm in a clinic with my family at the moment, so there might be some background noise. I wanted to know if you'd finished getting together the extras, because there's some beautiful scenery up here that I think the location scout might be interested in.

Director V████: Understood. Where are you? How many people do you think ought to visit? Are there any special considerations they should be aware of?

Agent Michaels: I'm up-state in Spring, visiting family. And, oh, I think you could get away with no more than 10 or 20. And bring some cameras, you might be able to get some preliminary shooting done. A warning though, if anyone has any allergies, they ought to bring something to help them breathe. I think there's something in the air like a high pollen count and I feel like I've had a mind-bending headache for a few hours. Also, the local wildlife is a little excitable, so try not to run over anything when you're scouting out the woods.

Director V████: Oh, I think we could handle a few wild animals. Would you like us to meet up with you when we come into town or should we scout out the area first?

Agent Michaels: If I can get away from my family I could probably show you a few interesting spots, but you might want to do some scouting on your own.

Director V████: Understood. The location scout will make the decision whether or not to contact you before they arrive. We can reach you on the company phone?

Agent Michaels: Yeah, I'll keep it on vibrate. Don't want to disturb anyone up here, after all. They're just all so nice that I wouldn't want to bother them.

Director V████: Good luck out there, Deb.

Agent Michaels: Thanks, Skip! You have a good day, too.

One of Debra's selling points as a movie stunt-double was that she could lose herself into a role to the point that it was almost impossible to tell her from the actress she replaced in the shot. This skill had helped her both on-camera and when she was out in the field, but she was getting taxed now. It was difficult to hide the rage and fear when her 14 year-old son cried heaving sobs into her chest, desperately heartbroken that he was "too old to grow up." Her husband was no help; he was too busy arguing with his brother, trying to find some way of getting that… thing to reconsider.

She watched the small clinic from over the top of her son's head, murmuring comforting noises as she kept a sympathetic look on her face. They had come straight here after that meeting in the clearing, ostensibly to treat her "migraine". In reality, Debra wanted to keep an eye on the other children that that creature had interacted with. They were, to a child, grossly overweight and somehow their skins looked tight over their faces. That doctor had escorted three of them and their parents to the clinic, and another two had shown up shortly afterwards.

Doctor Shivaji had forgotten to close the door all the way when she went in to see the last child, so Debra was able to overhear her talking with the parents.

"Mary is looking quite well, based on what the adult has led me to expect. I expect that she'll put on about another 10 pounds before the end of the week and she's further along than any of the other boys and girls. In fact, she might actually be ready in the next day or so. I recommend that you take her over to Marcia Brody's B&B downtown; Mrs. Brody has agreed to let the kids stay there when they're almost ready. I already have some monitoring equipment over there and it'll be easier for the adult to come in and help the kids when it's time."

The unfamiliar voice of a woman, presumably Mary's mother, responded, "Is Mrs. Brody charging anything? We've already been spending a lot to feed Mary's hunger, not that we mind, and money's a little tight until the next paycheck. I do want the best for Mary, especially if the adult is going to come personally to help her, but if it costs too much I don't know what we're going to do."

"I don't know whether or not Mrs. Brody is charging anything; you'd have to check with her. But if you can't take Mary over there, at least bring her here if she starts to feel strange. It'll take longer for the adult to get here, but at least I should be able to keep Mary stable in the meantime."

Gunnar Deathrage lay at the edge of a ridge and looked down at the town with a pair of binoculars, wondering when him and his cell were going to finally see some action. They'd been staking out this podunk little town for over a week on the orders of The Teacher, but with nothing to show for it. There weren't any flying dudes or sexy glow-in-the-dark tree spirits (were those nymphs or dryads? Eh, what's the difference. It'd be fun to fuck both) or exploding cars or ANYTHING. Just some dumb-ass little shit-hole of a backwoods town that they were supposed to watch because "one of ours is there". Whatever.

"Ralph!" someone whispered behind him, and Gunnar shifted a little to get more comfortable (he hadn't been startled at all. He knew Sgt. Dave was behind him the whole time.) and looked over his shoulder. He said back, "I told you, my name is Gunnar Deathrage now. If all the other weird-ass people get to be out in the open, then so do I. And my true name is Deathrage, Gunnar Deathrage. And dude, why're you whispering? There's no-one else around."

Sgt. Dave rolled his eyes (fucker. I'm gonna zap you when my powers kick in. I just know I can throw lightning. And fire guns with endless ammo. Yeah. That'd be cool.) and pointed back down the ridge. "Fine, 'Gunnar', but I'm whispering because we don't know how good our brother's hearing is and we don't want to scare him off. Plus, it's hunting season and I don't want one of those townsfolk taking a potshot at me because I made a sound like a deer or something.

"Also, we just got a call that the kimiho is coming to visit us. Apparently she's making a tour of the watch-camps near the Liberation Point and we're next. She should be here in a couple of hours max and I need you to go back and help clean up the camp for her. I'll take over your watch here."

Gunnar grunted as he scooted back from the edge and handed the binoculars to Sgt Dave. "Whatever, dude. I haven't seen anything exciting anyway. Hey, is Moonbeam back at camp?" (fuck, that girl's a damn fine piece of ass, even if she was some kind of trippy flower-power chick. I'll give it another shot and see if I can get in her pants before we clean up)

Sgt. Dave commando-crawled into the spot where Gunnar had been, rustling slightly as he pushed aside fallen leaves, and whispered back, "Nah, she's still on the other side of town, trying to find wherever it was they all went yesterday. She said she could smell the magic on the wind and was going to go track it down."

"Cool." (shit) "I'll straighten up and wait for you then. Things gotta look nice for our visitor. Hey, do you know if this kimiho chick is hot? I heard she was hot."

Sgt. Dave sighed softly and whispered back, "I'm sure I don't know. Just be nice to her when she gets here."

Sgt. Dave Mastromarino listened as Ral-Gunnar started walking back to camp, dry leaves and twigs crunching loudly beneath his feet with every step. He briefly contemplated the difference between that boy and his squad-mates back in Iraq and wondered again whether he could get transferred to another cell. One that was more serious about The Cause, that had more discipline. Moonbeam meant well, and was actually able to be useful on occasion with her paranormal intuition, but that boy was just useless trash. At least "Gunnar" didn't know about the guns and grenades in the truck's lockbox. Mastromarino doubted that that boy had ever held an actual gun before and didn't want to have to be constantly pestered to let that boy have one. They were only for a last-ditch effort, if the townsfolk interfered or those oppressive Foundation fucks showed up.

Mastromarino watched the town and nearby woods for another 90 minutes, switching to night-vision as the light waned. He didn't see or hear anything out of the ordinary, just a deer and a small horde of squirrels. There wasn't even much activity in town, just a few cars driving in and out. Mostly SUVs and pickup trucks like his, but there was a string of four panel vans right at dusk. The light wasn't good, but he thought the logo on one of them was of a sun shining on a beach with one of those beach chair and umbrella setups. A little weird to see that many all in a row, but probably just a coincidence.

As full darkness descended, Mastromarino decided to head back to their little campsite and see just how badly that boy had botched the cleanup job. He wanted to be there before the kimiho showed up, anyway. After all, as the leader, he needed to greet their guest. He scooted down the ridge until he was below the sight-line to the town and slowly stood up, making a minimum of noise. As he turned to walk back, he was startled to see an attractive Asian woman standing only a dozen feet behind him. She was easily the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen and he almost felt like kneeling at Her feet. He wasn't even sure how She was dressed; the darkness made Her form somewhat indistinct.

“Oh! You startled me, Miss. Are you lost?”

She gently drifted forward like a mist on the breeze as She replied in a soft, sweet voice. “Why no, I'm not. You are the leader of this group of the Teacher's, are you not? I'm here to see what progress you've made in located that poor unfortunate freed from the Foundation's clutches. I'm quite interested in seeing what it's capable of.”

Mastromarino was captivated by Her eyes until he humbly lowered them so as not to profane Her beauty. “You must be the Lady Kimiho. I am indeed the squad leader. If you'll allow me to escort you, Lady, I can fill you in on what we've found so far.”

She placed a delicate hand pale as fine porcelain on his arm and murmured, “How kind of you. You are so sweet I could just eat you up. Please lead on.”

Dr. Shivaji pulled up to the curb along Marcia Brody's place. Even though she'd supervised the placement of all the medical equipment just yesterday, she wanted to check it again. Although she was doing her best to hide it from everyone, she was really nervous about this whole thing. Even with the adult on hand, she was worried about all the things that could go wrong: one of the children could start changing away from a safe place, one of them could have a bad reaction to the IV supplement during the change, some of the monitoring equipment could malfunction… There were a thousand ways that something could go wrong and as much as she didn't want to disappoint the adult, she was more worried about something bad happening to the kids.

As she walked up to the door, it opened and a couple of large men walked out. Marcia stood behind them, telling them “And again, I'm sorry but we're booked full right now, gentlemen. I think that we might be able to squeeze you in next month if you're still interested then.”

One of the men, a short, muscular black man, replied, “We'll keep that in mind, Ms. Brody. We heard a lot of interesting things about this town and wanted to just get away from it all. Can you recommend anywhere else in town we could stay overnight?”

“Well, there's the Ramada across town. I can give them a call and let them know you're coming, if you like.”

“Thank you, Ms. Brody, we would appreciate that. You have a good night, now!”

Game Day, 200 re-write

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Item #: SCP-200

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-200-2 through SCP-200-19 require separate containment chambers measuring 5m x 5m. Each chamber will only be accessed via a reinforced airlock and monitored by security cameras in each corner of the chamber, as well as by telemetry from the medical monitoring equipment attached to each instance. No windows or other direct viewing are allowing other than during equipment maintenance periods. The humidity of each chamber will be a minimum of 90% and SCP-200-2 through SCP-200-19 are to be kept moistened by automatic misters should they show signs of flaking or surface degradation. Only personnel with Security Level 1 or lower are to have direct access to SCP-200-2 through SCP-200-19.

SCP-200-1 is to be housed in a 10m x 10m high security suite lined with 2.5cm of steel, equipped with a standard humanoid furniture suite and remotely monitored at all times. All air vents are to be equipped with grade III-A air filters sufficient to remove contaminants .5 microns or larger. These filters are to be exchanged at least once monthly, and more frequently is SCP-200-1 has shown signs of increased agitation. Only D-class personnel are allowed into SCP-200-1's chamber, and only while wearing self-contained, airtight quarantine suits. SCP-200-1 is to be provided one small animal on the scale of a fox or raptor per day, as well as 2kg of nutritive plant matter.

All D-class personnel are to be interviewed immediately following direct contact with SCP-200-1 and, should they display cognitive abnormalities consistent with telepathic intrusion, permanently removed from contact with SCP-200-1. All personnel with higher security levels who have access to live video feeds of SCP-200-1 are to be interviewed weekly for signs of telepathic intrusion. In the case that any cognitive abnormalities are present, the affected personnel are to be removed from the containment site for a period of no shorter than one month until the cognitive abnormalities subside.

Description: SCP-200-2 through SCP-200-19 resemble chrysalises measuring between 168cm and 181 cm in length. Each instance is attached to a medical gurney. The coloration of the chrysalises range from pale green to mottled brown. Analysis reveals that each chrysalis consists of several layers of coarse silk. The silk layers appear to be held together by [DATA EXPUNGED]. Ultrasound tests have been unable to detect any solids within the chrysalises. However, fluid samples reveal human DNA matching that of one of several children known to have been exposed to SCP-200-1. Samples of the [DATA EXPUNGED] used to bind each chrysalis to its gurney, as well as the silk fibers forming each chrysalis, match the DNA of both the enclosed child and SCP-200-1.

SCP-200-2 through SCP-200-19 lie dormant the majority of the time, although they occasionally twitch in response to external stimuli such as sudden contact or loud noises. Additionally, each chrysalis is more active if it shares an unfiltered atmosphere with SCP-200-1.

SCP-200-1 is a roughly humanoid figure with height of approximately 2.1 meters and an average weight of approximately 30 kilograms. It possesses 6 limbs, consisting of a pair of insectile wings attached at the shoulder-blades, each measuring 1.77 meters in length, a pair of grasping limbs with 3 joints each, and a pair of ambulatory limbs with 2 joints each. Each grasping limb terminates in a simplified human hand, possessing only 2 fingers and a thumb. With the exception of the grasping limbs, SCP-200-1 is covered by a segmented carapace superficially resembling human skin or tanned leather. The joint spaces and grasping limbs are covered in a waxy, slightly damp skin with a texture similar to latex. Its head possesses 2 feathery antennae, 4 compound eyes situated in pairs and a set of complex mouthparts consisting of a proboscis, vertically-oriented tearing mandibles and at least 2 rows of teeth.

SCP-200-1 possesses the ability to exude a variety of substances from its grasping limbs, including a strongly caustic mucous, a variety of catalytic reagents and several powerful pheromones. These pheromones are capable of rapidly inducing a state of calm and trust in human beings, and also acts as a mild hypnotic. The most intense research on these pheromones focuses on their ability to make human beings more susceptible to telepathic intrusion. Researchers have yet been unable to replicate the active agent responsible for this effect.

SCP-200-1 is mildly telepathic, with a rating of 107 on the Miller-Epps Psionic Rating Index. It uses this ability to make affected humans ignore that its appearance is unusual, as well as fostering a sense that SCP-200-1 is in a position of benevolent authority over them. Once a human has accepted this, SCP-200-1 appears to use its telepathic ability to impart non-verbal messages or multi-modal sensory impressions that affected humans interpret as desires or commands originating from SCP-200-1. Note that aside from accepting SCP-200-1 as a valid and benevolent authority figure, an affected human's personality and motivations do not change; instead they respond to SCP-200-1's desires and commands the same as they would respond to a normal peer request.

Note: See the After Action Report for Incident 234-900-"Tempest Night" and Recovery Report 200-Sierra for further details on the effect of SCP-200-1 on large groups of people.

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