The two Level B researchers stared at the object hovering in the cell. The field agents that retrieved the item had assured them that this was indeed anomalous, having gotten it at a yard sale at the high school a good 20 miles away. Aside from being labeled 'Beat Mesa', there wasn't much that was odd with it, at least as far as they could see. The item in question was a floating record, with some notable differences. It could play, but no sound came out of it. In appearance, it was mostly the same; however, the bottom part of the record contained interlocked and connected gears, stretching down a few inches. It weighed around five pounds, more than any other record should. When it wasn't being played in a record player or being held, it floated in the air. They had only done very limited testing, but they needed to find out more.
"Z-H4136280-B. In front of you is a record. Please pick it up and bring it up to your shoulders, then drop it." The Z-Class looked back at the glass window, trying to see through it in the hopes that the researchers were really joking around and snickering. Nothing. He muttered a few swears under his breath and did as he was told. As the record dropped, it stopped at the last second before impact and hovered. "Now, please pick up the record again, and throw it to the ground as hard as you can." And so he did, but the result was largely the same, stopping right before impact. "You may go back to your Z-Class cell and await the next test." The researcher, named Harvey, sighed and looked at his colleague. "Do you think we should just file this away in some locker? Doesn't seem like much to me."
"Well, let's just get these next rounds of testing over with. After, we can just store it away if the other fellas want to as well." John shrugged at Harvey and turned back. The next Z-Class was herded into the room, looking around in confusion.
"Z-H1025111-A. On the wall over to your right, there is a record player. Take the record in front of you, place it in the record player, and play it from any point." Sure enough, no sound at all aside from the faint hum of the player. "Alright, one more test for the day. Take the record out of the player and drop it. Next to the player there should be a quill with a sharpened tip. Starting from the outside, scratch the record until you reach the middle." Both his colleague and the Z-Class (through the window) looked at him in utter bewilderment. The mic was quickly muted while the test was carried out in reluctance.
"Why would you let him do that? We could potentially waste an item we don't know about, just like that!" He shrugged and replied, turning back to look at the Z-Class.
"We have to test it to find out what it does. Might as well take our chances." After a minute, the record had been carefully scratched. The scratch was glowing ever so slightly, and yet everything was still intact. Harvey turned the mic back on. "Please put the record in the player and attempt to play it again." This time, the record skipped erratically with complete randomness. Only scratching noises came out of the record. "Quick, take it out and drop it. You're done for the day." The Z-Class was escorted out, and the two researchers looked at each other for a bit. Finally, John went into the room with latex gloves and retrieved the record. "It doesn't do anything. Let's just leave it in a locker and go grab lunch. I'm starving."
As the two exited to go and oversee testing and containment of another anomaly, their superior stopped them right at the door. Never before had they received as stern of a look as they had at that moment. The eyes had said it all. They were in trouble, or at least they were going to be heavily questioned. The superior grunted and walked into an adjacent hallway. They had no choice but to follow.
Their ears rang and they could hear a faint buzz. Everything was so silent, a fly could damage their hearing. They had no idea what to expect, or why they were being led to their fate. Demoted, fired, embarrassed, all real possibilities. As they approached their superior's office, a loud voice boomed.
"When did you test Confirmed Anomaly 2?" They almost stopped walking in shock. Something must have gone wrong during testing. Harvey quietly spoke up after a few seconds.
"Um… not even two hours ago. Why?" He didn't answer. And so they walked in silence for another few minutes, anticipation building. Finally, they trudged into his office, closing the door behind them. Immediately, they all sat down together around the table. Their superior breathed in a bit and exhaled, starting to talk again.
"Did you know that there was an incident that happened at a high school approximately 25 miles away from here? ██████████ High School they call it. Students arrived at school, only to find out that everything changed. Classrooms were different, computers installed, auditorium blocked off, the whole place got changed in the blink of an eye. We don't know the extent of the differences yet, but we figure the whole school transformed into… something. And it happened less than two hours ago, in the same time frame you were doing your tests on CA2. Now, the UIU is going to send in a team to investigate, but whatever you two have done, is very serious. We're classifying it as a new anomaly, CA3." The two sat in silence, not knowing how to reply or what to say to calm their superior. They didn't need to. "The both of you, for running unauthorized testing, are demoted to clerical duty. CA2 will be stored in its own containment cell for further study by other Level B researchers. You can go to your new assigned jobs immediately."
"Where do you think it came from?"
"Where what came from?" Harvey wasn't particularly in the mood to talk. He felt terrible, and unsure about his future. What if this new anomaly was threatening and dangerous?
"The Beat Mesa thing. CA2. I mean, it can't be a coincidence that our testing with scratching it and all made this happen." The two got in the elevator and punched a button to the top floor, passing by several floors containing containment cells, lockers, and Z-Class. True, it wasn't a big place really, but they were building it. Harvey pondered the question seriously. Could they ever find out? Objects that broke and defied the laws of physics, paranormal entities…
"I don't think we're meant to know." When the elevator reached the top floor, they found desks newly installed for them, with all the necessary equipment. The both sighed, but went over to their stations and got to work. Already there were files needed to be filled, memos to be sent, and budgets to be balanced. Harvey looked out the window he was stationed next to and got a dreary view of the surrounding desert. The sun glistened and caught his eye. He had a feeling that this was going to be a very long day.
UIU File 00██: Connection between CA2 and CA3
It is as of yet unknown what connections there are between the two anomalies. What is known is that during testing of CA2, "The Beat Mesa", an event triggered causing CA3 to form. It is theorized that scratching the surface of CA2 is the source of CA3 forming at ██████████ High School. Further testing has been denied as of ██/██/196█.
Item #: SCP-1995
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Both SCP-1995-1 and SCP-1995-2 are to be held in Sector-10. Two SCP-1995-1 specimens are to be stored in an 18 cm x 18 cm x 26 cm ballistic laminate tank completely filled with desalinated water. The tank will be stored at Sector-10, locked in a 25 cm x 25 cm x 50 cm storage locker. No more experiments are to be done unless plans are written down and sent for approval to a Level 4 Head Project Researcher. In the case of any additional experiments, a separate 2 m x 2 m x 2 m cell has been set aside for additional testing. In the event of scheduled testing, specimens will be relocated to an identical storage tank in a separate clean room to allow for incidental maintenance of the primary tank. Any requests for experimentation are to be submitted to the current SCP-1995 Project Lead.
SCP-1995-2 instances are to be contained in storage lockers, roughly two (2) meters high, in their own 2.2 m x 2.2 m x 2.5 m cells, and must be placed no less than 40 m from one another or from SCP-1995-1. There should be no electronic devices capable of accessing the internet within 2.5 to 3 km of any of these containers. If anyone wishes to access an instance of SCP-1995-2 for experimentation, they must receive approval from both a Level 4 Head Project Researcher, as well as an Overseer. Any interviews must be approved and conducted in the presence of a Level 3 Researcher.
If there are any new reports or discoveries of any new cases of SCP-1995, or if the description is a likely match to SCP-1995, Mobile Task Force Phi-1 (aka, "Hard Drive Maintenance") are to be sent immediately to the source of the report(s), obtaining any instances and administering Class-B amnesiacs as needed.
Description: SCP-1995-1 is a complex automaton superficially resembling a bedbug. It is highly resistant to physical damage, but can be immobilized by water or destroyed via fire. When a person enters REM sleep, it will bite the target's neck, injecting them with a poison, which acts in two stages. The first stage acts as an anesthetic, preventing the person from responding to any external stimuli for a total of nine hours at which point the victim will wake up. The poison can not filter out of the body through any means, and will continue circulate through the bloodstream. After biting, SCP-1995-1 will enter the mouth, making its way to the stomach. There, it will become dormant until the next time the victim enters sleep.
While a victim is awake, they begin to experience feelings of drowsiness, irritability, and a slightly slowed reaction time to events around them throughout the day. The next time a victim enters REM mode, they will skip to deep sleep. SCP-1995-1 will become active again and generate two eggs into the stomach, which will spawn two more instances. All three specimens begin to travel up to the mouth to leave. The two new specimens will begin to exit, with the original burying itself into one of the eye sockets. During this, the poison injected in the bitten victim will start to enter its second phase where the victim will experience visible pain and discomfort, starting with paralysis in the lower half of the body that eventually spreads to the whole body, brain damage, [REDACTED]. Despite this, the victim will not wake up at any point, and will be converted into an instance of SCP-1995-2 in a timespan of approximately 2 hours.
SCP-1995-2 is a sapient coffin-shaped computer, the outer shell composed of steel. The body begins to convert into a computer through unknown purposes, starting with the insides. Organs and inner layers of the skin will turn into different componets of a computer, with the original instance of SCP-1995-1 forming an antennae. Outer skin will convert into an outer shell with the lower torso forming an LCD screen. The computer has two halves that can be opened; however, the top half is inaccessible, while the bottom half opens to reveal basic computer components that can not be removed. The coffin can communicate to researchers with the LCD screen, and only in binary code. It can not be turned off by any means, through any force applied to it, liquids poured on/in it, or lack of power (and as of ██/██/2███, it can even function [DATA EXPUNGED]. See Addendum SCP-1995-A for more details.)
Whenever three or more instances of SCP-1995-2 are within 2 km of any electronic device capable of accessing and using the internet, and are within at least 20 meters of each other, they will intercept the signal and connect to the computers, creating and forming a network with each other. All instances will download any file and program to themselves and wipe the original devices clean, while also being able to access the internet. A shared IP for these three computers has been located and recorded as ███.█.███.██; however no known activity of any kind since it first connected has been observed yet. The purposes of this is unknown. Any new experiment ideas must be submitted to the head researcher.
Addendum SCP-1995-A: Multiple experiments were conducted to determine the nature of both SCP-1995-1 and SCP-1995-2. One such experiment involved keeping an infected D-Class awake for as long as possible. The D-Class stayed awake for ██ days, before expiring to sleep deprivation, after which the site [DATA EXPUNGED] contained quickly, D-Class involved have been terminated ahead of schedule, and a new instance [DATA EXPUNGED].
An interview with one SCP-1995-2 instance about the origins of its creation has been fruitless. It flashed a single message on the LCD screen over and over until the researcher formally ended the interview and left. The following is said message:
We are building
We are connecting
Waiting to be joined
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-012 is to be kept in a locked iron-shielded box at all times, with the passcode only known by the current Site Director. If the object is exposed to any personnel, personnel must be detained and examined for signs of mental health deterioration.
Description: SCP-012 is a handwritten musical score entitled "On Mount Golgotha". It appears to be part of a larger set of sheet music, although there has been only one page recovered so far. Anomalous properties manifest whenever a subject trained in music theory is exposed to SCP-012 for a prolonged amount of time. At 0 - 5 minutes, they will
In every case, the subjects mutilated themselves in order to use their own blood to finish the piece, resulting in subsequent symptoms of schizophrenia and massive trauma. Those subjects who managed to finish a section of the piece immediately committed suicide, declaring the piece to be "impossible to complete". Attempts to perform the music have resulted in a disagreeable cacophony, with each instrumental part having no correlation or harmony with the other instruments.
Addendum 012-A: SCP-012 was retrieved by Archaeologist K.M. Sandoval during an excavation of a northern Italian tomb destroyed in a recent storm. The first personnel to locate the sheet were later found to have died of malnutrition and dehydration.
The following documents were recovered at a raid on a warehouse in ██████, ██, sent from █████ █████, Alaska on ██/██/20██
And here we are. Got the materials to start building this thing after countless hours of bargaining. Apparently, we're going to be the only ones working on this project now since support and and funding has been pulled out from ██. They apparently want proof of work or whatever that this thing will actually work. Close-minded assholes. I'll just send plans over when we're done. Should probably send over these entries so they'll see the process. Can't believe I joined only a couple months back and I'm on the team. Alaska is a pretty piss-poor place to work, but whatever.
We're getting somewhere. After some setbacks, we're finally ready, but of course, I'm going to be the one building this thing. We got no blueprints yet, a vague concept of what to do, and only about a few thousand to buy additional supplies, pay off rent for this building, and making sure we don't freeze our asses off. Then again, we specialize in vagueness. I'm sure I can think of something.
Crap crap crap crap. ████ drew up some blueprints for me and I'm working on it, but I cracked the fucking marble while moving things. That's funding cut right there, a setback for us, and my ass fucked over. Deadline's ticking.
Yeah, say what you want about her, but the boss is pretty good. Set up a front for us here so we can get known in the community. Personally met a couple of well-liked people here. The both hunt bears and animals and fish. Made me sick to my stomach, seeing them flaunt around their fur coats while buying some more spears. Asked █████ why we're selling these damn things. She said it was to establish a reputation or something or other. I think for once, I'd prefer to stay in the basement, working on this thing.
As of a couple days ago, I finished the foundation and I'm getting to work on building the support system to hold the globe up. We all decided on a title last night actually. "World Without Man".