Deleted: Negative reception, eventual deletion.
Mixed: Not deleted, mixed reception.
Well-received: Nice and positive in rating, positive comments.
SCP-876, Element-switching pills, my first SCP. After a hard struggle, it's managed to stay above 0.
SCP-795, Low Priestess. Died a slow, painful death.
SCP-977, Ironfire. Died more quickly, but suffered less.
SCP-700, Gaseous Metal. Baleeted within 4 days on account of not being out-there enough to be an SCP.
SCP-365, Countdown Spike. Who's the nice guy that upvotes my attempts? Anyway, this one lasted only a few hours.
SCP-466, Mobile Veins. Body horror works!
SCP-651, Autonomous Carbon. This one is faltering, but not in the killzone.
SCP-770, Pierced Desolator. I could have seen that coming. Apparently "trying too hard" is really easy.
SCP-996, Broken Topology. Surprise, it works!
SCP-436, Error Locket. This is one that the community is genuinely divided about.
SCP-620, Unusual Chef. 2 hours, a new record.
Reverse Alarm Clock
Stop Damn You
Item #: SCP-XXX
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: The building containing SCP-XXX has been purchased by the Foundation and refurbished into Site ██. SCP-XXX is closed off and the power supply to it has been disconnected.
Description: SCP-XXX is a large escalator, visually unremarkable. It is equipped with a black handrail, which moves in sync with the stairs as expected. The stairs are worn and stained, but otherwise normal.
When not supplied with power, the escalator has no anomalous properties. However, when activated, the stairs become extremely adhesive. Individuals that attempt to use SCP-XXX will become fused with the stairs—footwear materials join directly to the steps, and the individual's feet join to their footwear. SCP-XXX will not shut off when this occurs. As the stair reaches one end of the escalator and loops, shear force between the landing platforms and the stair will tear the individual apart. The landing platform is sufficiently spaced so that thin bones may pass through, usually limited to the limbs. The ribcage and skull break under pressure. Some individuals my survive SCP-XXX if both ankles are torn from the body, thus freeing them, and immediate medical attention given.
The escalator will continue to operate after killing an individual. Loose pieces of biomatter will simply be ground into a paste and fail to interrupt SCP-XXX's function. Attached feet and footwear vanish after a variable number of passes.
Item #: SCP-XXX
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: [REDACTED], SCP-XXX is encased in a 1.5 meter by 1.5 meter by 1.5 meter block of chrysotile asbestos, which should be contained in an inconspicuous cardboard box, and kept under standard large item SCP security. [REDACTED]
SCP-XXX is a cauldron, with no features beyond the common depictions aside from chipped paint, allowing a red grid to be seen. Inside is series of liquids and solids, partitioned into 1cm3 cubicles. All of the contained materials are toxic to human beings. No attempt to remove these liquids or solids is successful; they simply adhere to the sides of the cubicles strongly enough to prevent any movement. The cubicles are indestructible, though it is possible to damage the cauldron itself through ordinary means, as has been demonstrated by Dr. █████.
The effects of all toxins are amplified depending on the distance to SCP-XXX, in a way consistent with the inverse square law (i.e. there is no "safe" range, but effects are very slight beyond ███ ██.) Benign levels commonly overcome by the body's immune system become debiltiating—within █ ██ of SCP-XXX, the mercury content of one serving of fish becomes a lethal dose. D-Class who have attempted to get close to SCP-XXX have broken into coughing fits and chronic pains, which cease when they retreat. It is possible to touch the cauldron itself, but the individual rapidly dies from free radical poisoning. Said poisoning, on a weaker level, is likely the cause of the many cases of cancer in the suburb of ████████ near SCP-XXX's containment.
I measured the temprature with an alcohol thermometer (we shouldn't let the liquids evaporate, so, keeping it cold?), and it wasn't giving sensible readings. Once I left the chamber, it was working fine again. The closer I get to SCP-XXX, the weirder my thermometers act, except the digital one. I took a lump of gallium in in a plastic bag, melted it with my hand, and when I got close, it hardened. Then I couldn't get it to melt again. Are we sure that the only thing that gets changed is the toxicity of the chemicals? - Assistant "Kaz"
LEVEL 4 CLEARANCE REQUIRED BEYOND THIS POINT
In light of Kaz's tampering, and the suburban ████████ seafood event, SCP-XXX has been relocated. - Dr. ██████████████
REDACTED SECTIONS AVAILABLE TO LEVEL 4 PERSONNEL:
In actuality, the asbestos block contains nothing. SCP-XXX is buried deep underground 40 miles east of Topeka, Kansas, under an ordinary cornfield and contained in a specially constructed 2 meter by 2 meter by 2 meter vault. The vault is filled entirely with asbestos.
If any material placed inside SCP-XXX that is not already contained in a cubicle, a new cubicle will appear to contain the material. The chemical suddenly and irreversably becomes a toxin.
Incident report XXX-01, dated 1956:
Terminate Dr. ████████ immediately. Right this second. I need a drink.
He broke a mercury thermometer, pressing to hard in one of the cublicles to measure it. That's the only kind of thermometer that acutally works. Worked, anyway. A new cubicle showed up and captured the drops. Usually not a big deal to snap one of those things, but now? Dementia. Neurological disorders. Retard babies. Everywhere you have the stuff, it's fucking up everyone. If you have any of the stuff, seal it up. And throw it in toxic waste containers.
Wow. Mercury, toxic. We've known its medical properties since, what, Rome? It cures insanity, not causes it. But I guess a miracle cure was too good to last. It's the only thing keeping the 110+ year olds alive, but hey, you can't live forever, right? Guess we'll all have to settle for 40 fewer years on our lives, assuming hunter-gatherer lifespans are what we can expect.
We have to get this stuff off the shelves now. I severely doubt that Dr. ████████ hasn't just murdered thousands of people, probably up to a million. The Minamata bay seeding is going to backfire horribly. I was going to retire at 100; now I'm not going to live that long. My heart's going to start acting up again until I expel all the quicksilver from my system.
- Dr. █████