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EX contest entry

Item #: SCP-4023-EX

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-4023 is to be kept in a level 3 biohazardous containment facility designated 4023-a. Access will be granted to level 3 personnel on the 4023 project. Specimens of SCP-4023-1 expressing SCP-4023 should be stored at -80 degrees Celsius, in a 50% glycerol stock solution. All personnel must wear full face and skin protection while working with SCP-4023 or SCP-4023-1. Any items that have come into contact with SCP-4023 or SCP-4023-1 must be kept in lab 4023-a or incinerated, at potential risk of a █K-class event.
Addendum 4023-1: While SCP-4023 has been explained and no longer has special containment procedures, lab 4023-a is to be kept online for containment and study of SCP-4023-1. Lab 4023-a has been downgraded to a class 2 biohazardous laboratory since the development of anti-4023 agents.

Description: SCP-4023-EX is a chemical compound currently marketed as the antibiotic L████████, patented by Foundation front company █████████ █ ██████. It is an oxazolidinone antibiotic agent capable of killing nearly any naturally occuring gram-positive bacteria. Structural details, mechanism of action, and production information are available on request from Dr. Ersen; details are also publicly available in several peer-reviewed scientific journals and on Wikipedia.

SCP-4023-1 is a species of yeast capable of naturally producing SCP-4023-EX in extremely prolific quantities. Although superficially similar to Saccharomyces sp., SCP-4023-1 does not have any close genetic resemblance to any known species of fungus. The machinery it uses to produce SCP-4023-EX is not replicatable in other species of yeast.

Recovery Log 4023: SCP-4023 was discovered coating the surface of SCP-███. Its properties were realised on ██-██-19██, when Dr. ██████ began suffering total microfloral die-off due to saturation with the compound. SCP-4023-1 was discovered in several pockets of SCP-███, and isolated for laboratory study; remaining samples were removed by sterilising SCP-███ and all individuals involved in researching it.

Addendum 4023-2: The development of a nonbiological synthetic mechanism for SCP-4023-EX has allowed us to market it as a commercial drug. As a safeguard to prevent potential global contamination and microbial extinction events, an antibiotic resistance plasmid for SCP-4023-EX was developed and released to ensure a natural genetic drift mechanism to keep bacterial populations alive.

Staff Infection

Moriglioni was annoyed long before he got on the jet. He was irritated through the entire flight. Whe he stepped off the plane in Seattle, he was almost too tired to continue, but seeing Dr. Ersen standing in the airport, freshly shaved and showered and crossing his arms as though it was Moriglioni's fault the flight was late, he felt that spark flare up again.

"Well, Dr. Ersen, I'm here now. Want to tell me why I am?"

Ersen was Moriglioni's new supervisor, and almost thirty years his junior. That wasn't to say Ersen was particularly young; Moriglioni had done his years for the Foundation, and his assignment to SCP-453 was supposed to be something of a retirement. A nice little research job, managing a nightclub in Italy… it could be a lot worse. Unless some hotshot got his first command and decided he was going to rock the boat.

Moriglioni was a good foot taller than Ersen, even with his back starting to bend a little. He stared his new supervisor down, stopping just short of a glare. Ersen, in turn spoke right over Moriglioni's rough greeting.

"Dr. Moriglioni, it's an honour to meet you in person. I'm sorry for the inconvenience of your flight, but —" he was cut short by a loud cell phone ring from Moriglioni's pocket. He made a 'go ahead' gesture and shut up. As he pulled his phone to his ear, Moriglioni glanced at the time. 12:13 local time, that'd be a quarter after nine back in Italy.


It was Agent Sirianni, the floor manager of the day, on the other end. "<Sir, it's going to be a quiet night. Script 207, "The Dancer and the Fox". We'll be able to handle it fine.>"

With a hasty thank-you, Moriglioni cut off the call. Ersen raised an eyebrow quizzically. "My posting at four-five-three, Dr. Ersen, requires constant vigilance. Fortunately, it appears my supervision will not be necessary tonight."

"Good. As I was saying, I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I want to meet all my head researchers in the flesh at least once. I'd like you to meet the rest of the research group as well."

It was, to put it bluntly, sheer idiocy. Moriglioni hadn't needed supervision for the last thirty years. His SCP was well cared for, well documented, and under complete control. Gritting his teeth, he smiled at the newly-minted level four, his lips thinning under the tension.

"Shall we?" Doctor Ersen gestured to an unornamented brown Crown Victoria that waited a short distance away on the airstrip, a well-dressed thirty-something woman at the wheel. The two researchers closed the distance to the car in silence.

"Hey, sunshine," the woman at the wheel chuckled, looking at Moriglioni through her mirrored sunglasses. "Looks like you got off the wrong side of the private jet this morning, huh?"

"This is Agent Cordova. She's a very good driver." Ersen sounded slightly apologetic as he motioned to the woman. Moriglioni made quiet note of this. Cordova was fashionably dressed in very American-looking business casual; in another setting, Moriglioni might not have made her for an Agent. He mused briefly on how the Foundation had changed since the black suit days when he worked the front lines.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Cordova." Moriglioni let out a real smile this time, bowing deeply enough to be genuine but not so far as to seem mocking. It worked: the Agent smiled broadly and popped the back door open.

"Hop in, Grandpa. Boss always calls shotgun." Not quite sure if it was a joke, Moriglioni tossed a glance towards Ersen, but the younger researcher was already clambering into the front passenger's seat. He stifled a sigh and folded his lanky frame behind Cordova, who took a moment to shift her seat up a few inches. His knees creaked menacingly before settling into what passed for a comfortable position. At least the car had a spacious back seat; one of the older American sedans. The car was uncomfortably quiet for a few minutes as Cordova took it out of the airport and onto a highway.

"I've taken a good look at the history of your nightclub, Doctor," Ersen finally broke the silence with a slightly too-loud voice. "Not bad at all. Casualties have dropped precipitously since you took command in… what was it? Sometime in the nineties?"

"Nineteen eighty four, Doctor," Moriglioni replied curtly.

SCP-EEE: "Underwater City"

[Note: Alternate version would be an abandoned Foundation site. Much of the setup would be the same, but instead of an underwater city it would be a foundation facility in the desert. Open to thoughts.]

Item #: SCP-EEE

Object Class: Uncategorised. Presumed Euclid.

Special Containment Procedures:* As SCP-EEE has only been in the Foundation database since ██-██-201█, long-term containment protocols are not yet in place. Currently, the area above SCP-EEE is patrolled by two deep sonar equipped destroyers on loan from the ███████████ government; these vessels are to monitor for underwater-based incursions. One Foundation research submarine and two support vessels owned by the Foundation are establishing a base camp two (2) kilometers East of the site of SCP-EEE. Until SCP-EEE can be scouted and categorised, the site is to be actively monitored by satellite surveillance, and any unauthorised incursion is to be discouraged. Use of maximum force is authorised if standard discouragement does not suffice; however, detainment is to be preferred. Any interloper showing excessive tenacity in light of formal military intervention should be assumed to possess knowledge about SCP-EEE and be interrogated appropriately.

Description: SCP-EEE was discovered using a deep-water scanning satellite imaging software under private development by Dr. ███████ S██████, a civilian employed by ███████████. When his work detected what appeared to be an underwater city at coordinates 3.█████,142.█████ and disseminated on local intranets, the Foundation became aware of this facility. Containment and erasure of the discovery was handled by [data expunged] and administration of Class-A amnesiacs.

Initial studies of the site of SCP-EEE were carried out using the software which had discovered it, in conjunction with the superior satellite imagery available to the Foundation. The site was determined to cover an area roughly ██ km2, and includes areas that are assumed to correspond to regions of a terrestrial city. There is a "downtown core" of several high-rise buildings, a small "industrial complex", several "suburbs", and a portion of a what may be a rural farm area. Satellite-visible structures do not appear abnormal, aside from being ████m below the surface of the ocean. The street layout does not match any known city, but is not unusual.

Secondary reconnaissance was performed with sonar probes released from a surveyor ship. These probes mapped the three-dimensional layout of the city to within 1m accuracy. No abnormalities were detected, although the possibility of [data expunged] requires the continued use of caution in exploration. Additionally, any sonar-detected movement was within expected margins for aquatic life in the region. Growth of sessile aquatic life on structures in the city match growth levels for artificial structures submerged for 1-2 years. At this stage, a surface patrol was authorised and permission was granted to establish a research base near the site.

While scouting for a low-depth location for a submerged base of operations, rebreather exploration team Charlie-1 identified what was determined to be a 1989 Volkswagen "bug" automobile, on a mainly submerged asphalt road. The site was two (2) kilometers from the nearest satellite-recognised structure, on an oceanic shelf overlooking the site from a depth of ██-███m. The team was sent to investigate, as no SCP-related material was expected in this location. Details of the investigation are listed in Incident Report SCP-EEE-ETC1 (below).

Incident Report: SCP-EEE-ETC1

In order to adequately survey the base camp site, all four members of Exploratory Team Charlie-1 were equipped with live video and audio feed to the survey/command vessel on the surface, as well as role-appropriate equipment. The team consisted of team leader ETC-1a, Agent Ena D██████, equipped with an underwater-capable assault rifle; consultant ETC-1b, Dr. Ming X███, a specialist in marine biology and geology; engineer ETC-1c, Cpl. Sam L██, equipped with a surveyor's equipment suite; and videographer ETC-1d, Pvt. Rio F██████, equipped with a panoramic video scanning device. ETC-1a and ETC-1b each have over five thousand cumulative hours of dive experience, and are extensively experienced both with their equipment and with Foundation underwater protocols. ETC-1c had two hundred hours of civilian dive experience, and basic Foundation equipment certification. ETC-1d is the least experienced diver, and was permitted on this mission to further his experience in what was expected to be a safe mission.

Unless otherwise noted, video feed was taken from the forward-facing rig carried by ETC-1d. Feed from the panoramic camera is available with L3 authorisation and an appropriate viewer.

Video feed commences. ETC-1d is floating behind the rest of the team; the other three members are wearing identical black wetsuits with a single luminescent letter indicating their ID printed on their high-depth rebreathers. ETC-1c has already begun fiddling with a mesh gearbag. The water is clear, although at this depth it is somewhat dark. The area is illuminated by large personal lights carried by every member, although ETC-1c has his deactivated.
ETC-1a: This is team leader Agent D██████ to command. We have reached the floor and are preparing to commence scouting.
BASE: This is base. Authorisation granted to commence. We're getting clear feed from all of you.
ETC-1a: Thank you, sir.
ETC-1b: Hey guys, Ming here. From what I can tell at a glance, this looks great. Relatively little life to disturb. Gentle slope Westward, towards the SCP, which doesn't hurt. The dropoff is about… 400 meters? I think. We'll get survey in on that. Sam, how's that going?
ETC-1c: Give me a minute, Ming.
BASE: ETC-1d, we're picking up something odd from your panoramic view, at about four o'clock. While ETC-1c sets up, could you and ETC-1a get a closer look?

Video feed rotates jerkily as ETC-1d swims around. ETC-1a can be seen floating just above the camera's view. Their lights slowly pan across the weedy ocean floor.
BASE: There it is. About 30m ahead, slightly to your right.

Both lights lock onto a rusty volkswagen "beetle", its tires flat, weeds growing around it. The windows are rolled up and unbroken; the car is half-submerged in the silt.
ETC-1a: I'll be damned. Maybe it fell off a transport ship. At this depth I wouldn't expect the windows to be intact, though.

Both team members approach the vehicle. It shows no sign of pressure damage, although the seawater has left it in poor condition.
ETC-1a: Damn weird. Base, I thought you guys said we were far from the SCP?
BASE: There should be no SCP-related material at your location.
ETC-1d: Sir, there's no way this fell off a transport. At this depth the windows would've broken, but they're all sealed.
ETC-1a: Yeah, I know. Base, I'm sure this is part of the SCP.
BASE: Agreed, Agent. Abort your initial mission; we want more information on this before we worry about the geology of the area.
ETC-1a: Yes sir. You heard him, B and C. Pack it up and get over here.
ETC-1b: Ena, I'm not down here to look at cars. If we're not going to do what I came for, request permission to head back to base.
ETC-1a: Denied. I have no idea what we're going to find. I'd like you along. C, D, remember your protocols and stick with your assigned partner. D, you're with me. C, you stay with B. Got me?
ETC-1c and d: Yes, sir.

Moving at a slow pace to avoid kicking up the silty bottom, the divers convene around the sunken automobile. ETC-1d shines his light through the grimy window, capturing a dimly visible view of the interior of the vehicle.
ETC-1d: B, there's shit growing in there. How did that get in there? It's all sealed up.
ETC-1b: Not really. Half of the stuff in there started out as medusa, and would have just swum in through the air ducts. The other half started as eggs, and floated. You can see there's a lot less growing inside than out, probably because the air ducts are getting clogged.
ETC-1a: Hey, D, come look at this. Base, are you seeing it?
BASE: We're getting it from your feed, but it's a bit fuzzy. D, bring the good camera over.

The camera swings about jerkily as ETC-1d moves to the rear of the car, where ETC-1a is beckoning to him. As he moves his head to where ETC-1a is pointing, a patch of English writing becomes clearly visible in the grime encrusting the car's rear window.
ETC-1d: Is this some kind of joke, sir? "Wash me", really?
ETC-1a: I don't make jokes, Private. Base, can you check if that was there before? Did we just miss it on the first pass?
BASE: None of us saw it either, A, but we'll check.

ETC-1d reaches out and brushes the window. Grime moves aside, puffing into a cloud of dust as his hand passes. The writing remains, written on the inside of the window.
ETC-1d: Okay, sir, that's just weird.
ETC-1a: Team, there may be something intelligent trapped inside the car. Focus your lights onto the interior, see if you can identify it. Do not open the vehicle; consider this an unidentified SCP.
ETC-1c: One that wants its car washed.
ETC-1a: Serious faces, C.

The team studies the inside of the vehicle for some time, but nothing unusual is observed. At ETC-1a's orders, they progress towards the dropoff point in relative silence. Near the cliff edge, ETC-1b stops the team, shining her light at the seabed.
ETC-1b: We're definitely in the SCP zone. There's asphalt under the sand here. Look.
ETC-1c: That's kind of … eerie. It looks fresh, but it's buried under all that weed.
ETC-1a: D, get a good shot of it and then let's move on.

ETC-1b identifies the path of the road, based on a depression pattern in the sand. She observes that the road surface appears to wind down the ocean cliff face. The team spends a few minutes debating if they should follow it, considering the risk of oxygen narcosis and overuse of air supplies. ETC-1a, the most experienced operator of Foundation rebreathers, determines that they can safely travel about 50m down the cliff face before the risk becomes serious. Base agrees with his determination and the team continues down the road. About 100m down the road, 20m deeper in the water, the team encounters a roadsign smeared with muck.
ETC-1a: C, go wipe it off.
ETC-1c: Welcome… to… Endelsen? And there's something written underneath, in mar— oh fuck!
ETC-1c begins fumbling with his mask, pulling hard on it and breathing heavily.
ETC-1a: C, calm down. [No response] Sam!

ETC-1b attempts to stop ETC-1c, whose thrashing is kicking up a cloud of dust and obscuring visibility. In the murk, it appears he is struggling with his rebreather. Audio feed is consistent with a typical deep-sea panic situation. As ETC-1b reaches for ETC-1c's wrist, he shakes free and begins an uncontrolled ascent to the surface.
BASE: ETC-1b, halt your ascent. At your depth the repressurisation may be fatal.
ETC-1b: Fuck, he took off his mask. He can't hear you, I'm going to stop him!

ETC-1b and 1a disappear out of the murky cloud. ETC-1d, still at the bottom, looks around in confusion, then swims slowly toward the sign. The cleared mud shows a message, written in small letters in what appears to be black sharpie: "Sam… you're out of air!". Meanwhile, ETC-1a and b's audio can still be heard in the feed.
ETC-1a: He's going too fast. He must be buoyant… I can't catch him safely!
BASE: I don't see any bubbles either. The idiot is holding his breath… god dammit.
ETC-1b: Let him go, Ena, you're going to…
BASE: ETC-1a, stand down. Be aware of possible memetic situation. Stand down and recover your team, Agent.

A moment later, ETC-1a and b return to view on ETC-1d's camera feed. Even through the face mask, ETC-1a is clearly agitated.
ETC-1d: Sir, I noticed t —
ETC-1a: Show me topside, Private. Base, we're returning to the start site and aborting.
BASE: Agreed.

The mission was aborted without further incident. ETC-1c arrived at the surface with traumatic lung hyperexpansion, and was pronounced dead at the scene. Analysis of his bloodstream indicated residual traces of minor nitrogen narcosis, possibly sufficient to cause judgment lapse. No fault was assigned; memetic properties are not believed to be a factor.


-Nobody lives there, it's just a ruined modern city underwater. Regular apartment buildings, restaurants, industrial sector, et cetera. Estimated population of around 150,000, but there are no corpses.
-Tech levels and media recovered are on par for modern cities, not parallel development, but actual current tech. Software by microsoft, et cetera
-Underwater growth suggests it's been submerged for 1-2 years but technology is current.
-Site is in the polynesian pacific, but language use and media recovered suggest the city is part of the united kingdom.

SCP-EEE picture linkses

Incident Report: Recovery of SCP-328

Herein is enclosed the report of one Nicholas Cameron Brown, an Agent to Secure, Control and Protect, on the ██th day of ███ember, in the year of our Lord 18██, prepared for my Lord and Overseer, █████ ██████ █████████.

Five minutes after the second hour of the morning, one week ago today, I was risen by an alarum of gravest severity from [DATA EXPUNGED]. As this region falls solidly within my jurisdiction, I immediately set to finding a ship which could take me to the location. Under false pretenses, showing paperwork which suggested myself an agent of His Majesty's Secret Service, I commandeered the sloop HMS Carlotta, a fine vessel of some apparent speed, and ordered her captain make way with great haste. To my great good fortune, the vessel had recently been stocked, and was awaiting orders. We were upon the sea only an hour after dawn.

Though a most serviceable sloop, it remained the work of six days for Carlotta to reach those co-ordinates I deemed the origin of the [DATA EXPUNGED]. There, we found a small island, where none had existed before. The sailors and charts know these waters well, and from the moment this unexpected mass was sighted, it took all my skill to maintain control of the ship in the stark face of superstition.

When we fell within range of the sloop's guns, her Captain refused to bring her closer, arguing that "If aught is to go wrong, we have you in our sights." Mistrusting him somewhat, I did what I could to ensure he believed his welfare was thoroughly tied to my safe retrieval. Although I was unable to move him to approach the isle any closer, I was able to procure one of her skiffs and two able seamen to aid in the rowing. From amongst a small list of brave volunteers, I chose one Mister Gallaway, a Welsh youth of slight build; and one Mister Grey, a strong negro late of America. Both were able assistance, but I should like to recommend Mister Grey above his peer. The man possesses a strength of spirit rarely seen, and I believe he would make a fine Agent for our organisation, should my superiors see fit to test him as such.

Misters Gallaway, Grey and I reached the island in good time. To my honest relief, Carlotta did not flee as soon as she saw the back of me, but remained to retrieve us should we return. We approached armed with a pistol each, loaded already, and three rounds each of shot and powder. Mister Grey wore a simple short sword, curved in taste of naval men, and Mister Gallaway carried a heavy truncheon. I was, of course, armed with the [REDACTED] allowed an Agent of my rank.

The isle, as we approached, revealed its uncanny nature rapidly. The water around it lapped silently against sheets of ice, spreading out from the central mass for several feet despite the warmth of the ██████ waters. At the center of the ice, rimmed in frost, was a jagged, misshapen thing perhaps a hundred yards across. It was loosely round, though no circle. In colour and texture it was like to copper patina, but much darker, nearly black. As we approached, the smell of the thing became overwhelming: a smell of burnt, rotting fish coupled with the tangy odour which follows a burst of lightning. Mister Grey remarked that it reminded him of the reek of spent gun-powder, and Mister Gallaway claimed it had a faint aroma of burning dung.

Upon setting to the islet, I observed that the ice around it reached only half-deep into the water. On my prompting, Mr. Gallaway - the strongest swimmer among us - nobly offered to inspect the depths of the isle. When he returned from a short swim, he reported the water quite warm even so close to the block of ice, and that the "isle" was in fact floating. I can offer no reason the thing did not simply drift away, and I do not believe an answer is forthcoming in light of the resolution of this series of events.

While Mr. Gallaway swam, I took the opportunity to explore the surface of our islet. The ice was, to my surprise, quite warm, and I wonder if in fact it was ice at all. Nevertheless, it was slick to the touch and in all regards but temperature indistinguishable from the substance. Using a small hammer and chisel, I was able to obtain a small fragment, enclosed in the phial labeled "NCB: 1", which will be noted to remain frozen even still. The copper patina material of which the remainder of the island was constructed was, as well, quite warm to the touch, warmer still than the 'ice'. For all my efforts I nor either of my companions was unable to withdraw a sample.

Despite its small scale, incursion deeper into the island proved time consuming. The material of which it was constructed was jagged, protruding in all directions like a thicket. Not dense enough to walk upon, yet not spacious enough to move through, it was a manner of some time for us to lay down loose planks from the boat on which we could make way into the center. Beneath the planks, the surface of the island was rather springy, and gave substantially under our combined weight.

As we made headway "inland", we found what I had hoped to be the case. Near the center of the mass was a loosely circular, smooth-walled hole into the object. The lips of the hole were constructed of the same material above which we stood, but that faded quickly into a burnished, red-gold metal whose identity remains a mystery to me.


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-NNN is contained in a standard occupant suite, with a separate toilet/bathing area. He is to be provided with reasonable, non-dangerous requests and taken for walks daily. He has no history of attempting to escape since learning about his SCP status.

Description: SCP-NNN is a 45-year-old hispanic male tattoo artist. Certain types of tattoos (hereby refered to as SCP-NNN-1) inked by SCP-NNN will cause gradual alterations to the bearer of the tattoo (hereby refered to as SCP-NNN-a), apparently responding to the subject's emotional connection to the subject matter of the tattoo. SCP-NNN-1 may change over time. Mutations due to SCP-NNN-1 can be "undone" by reaching an equilibrium state between SCP-NNN-a's connection and the tattoo wherein no further changes to the subject are possible. In this situation, SCP-NNN-1 will fade in intensity and become a normal tattoo, and all alterations to SCP-NNN-a will revert.

The tools and ink used by SCP-NNN have not been shown to have any unusual properties nor any bearing on SCP-NNN-1 effects.

The nature of tattoos shown to exhibit SCP-NNN-1 characteristics follows:

  • Tattoos depicting writing will have no effect unless SCP-NNN-a understands the language in which they are written.
  • Tattoos must depict something which SCP-NNN-a has a deep emotional connection to. In general, SCP-NNN-a wishes to be like or with the subject of the tattoo.

Tattoo removal has been shown to halt the progression of the alterations caused by SCP-NNN-1 for up to one (1) year. Over time, SCP-NNN-1 reformed on SCP-NNN-a's skin and alterations resumed.

Experimental logs follow. Repetitive experiments have been omitted.

Experiment Log NNN-1

Start Date: ██/██/2007
Subject: D-NNN-a1
Tattoo: A raven, wings spread, on the left side of the face.
Psychological Significance: Under interrogation, D-NNN-a1 was revealed to have had a pet bird as a child, and viewed it as a symbol of freedom. SCP-NNN-1 likely manifested due to this in combination with the subject's current imprisonment.

  • Day 1: subject's hair is thick and feathery. No changes observed to SCP-NNN-1.
  • Day 2: subject walks with a two-legged, hopping gait. Puckering marks cover subject's skin. SCP-NNN-1 has grown in size by 3 cm.
  • Day 4: subject's arms have thickened. Small, downy feathers cover the subject. Subject expresses no concern over changes to physiology; is clearly aware of them. SCP-NNN-1's head has changed position from upward-stretched to staring outward. Eye is observed to blink on occasion.
  • Day 5: subject has a full coat of black feathers. Arms resemble wings. Posture and body shape are more like a bird than a person. Face remains human. Subject attempts to fly away during examination; refuses to answer questions. SCP-NNN-1 no longer visible.
  • Day 7: subject has lost most body mass, decreased in size to approximately 1m wingspan. Face remains human, but either speech is impossible or subject does not wish to communicate. No further changes observed.

Note: Tattoo was chosen by subject. Subject believed she was getting it as a reward for good behaviour. Had to give 6 D-class personnel tattoos before any manifested SCP-NNN-1 effects.

Experiment Log NNN-4

Start Date: ██/██/2007
Subject: D-NNN-a4
Tattoo: A poem, "Acquainted with the Night" by Robert Frost, written in English (subject's native language)
Psychological Significance: Subject quotes poem whenever possible, and has a poster of it in his cell. When asked if he'd like a professional tattoo of it, subject agreed immediately. Under interrogation, subject says that he feels the poem was written to describe himself and the detachment he feels from society.
Effect: Over the course of one (1) week, subject becomes increasingly withdrawn. Additional stanzas appear in the poem, fitting the original rhyming pattern but clearly describing situations in the subject's life, including [DATA EXPUNGED]. After seven days, Subject is not found in cell. GPS tracker activated and shows Subject present. Subject determined to be invisible under lit conditions, but becomes visible again when light reduced to 1000 lumens or less. After an additional four (4) days, subject vanishes entirely. GPS signal lost. Subject presumed terminated.
Note: It is going to be exceedingly difficult to find sufficient subjects to maintain experimental rigour, given the requirements of this thing. We've made 42 tattoos at this point, and only 4 have had enough importance to trigger SCP-NNN-1.

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