Extract from the Journal of Doctor Buried:
It fits doesn't it. In the old textbooks from my school days with all the families of organisms charted out, viruses were conspicuously absent. And they said viruses were "not living" but "not dead" either. something else. sounds like a cop-out to me. a way to say we don't know without admitting it. you know what the phrases "not living" and 'but not dead" sound like when used together? they sound like they're describing a robot. and that's exactly what it looked like up close. A machine. a piece of programming. It reminds me of the concept of a von Neumann probe. Alien civilizations wouldn't waste the money to build spaceships. it's too unwieldy. Illogical. They would build these little probes. self replicating. They use the resources of the environment to build other probes to spy and explore as well. when I first read that, I thought of these probes drilling into rock and metal to build an identical copy. But why metal, when there's something so much more abundant?
Who sent them? And exactly for what reason?
Status Update 5615-YY-23
All the members of The Virus capture team have ended up in the medical ward with severe illness and side effects due to a complete lack of bacteria in and on their body, which has unbalanced their immune systems. As some bacteria is necessarily, or helpful, they have come down with rare esoteric diseases which most humans are protected from. Commander Riger for example has developed an intestinal fungus last found on the earth three thousand years ago owing to the absence of any microbes in his gastrointestinal tract.
Document from Research and Observation sent to the Head of Security for Site ██
List of weapons possessed by the Virus:

All legs are extraordinarily sharp. The data so far indicts that at enough speed they could slice through any material found on Earth. They seem to be akin to nanofiber knifes, and have approximately the same cutting ability. They are also used in impaling.

Legs three and six have missile launchers attached to them. These lob bolts of energy that when hit the target cause a small explosion. They can be launched as balls (which can roll and bounce) or streaks.

Leg five near the bottom splits off into six separate thick metallic claws, separated from each by 60 degree angles. These claws can pinch open and shut. When pressed together they shoot an energy that can pass through walls, and selectively choose it targets. The energy can also hit a target and prime it for explosion, whether that explosion happens seconds or hours later.

Near the meeting point of the body and the head, there is a spot where blades fly out at great speeds. These blades can slice in a circle around the point and then are folded back in. The upper limit seems to be three at this time.

The Virus can drill through solid surfaces, including human bodies. It can also fall from a distance to increase momentum in the piercing.

From certain points on the crystalline head, steady lasers can emanate. They remain straight lines that can be moved to cut anything in their path.

A pulse that is emitted from The Virus's crystalline head. This pulse has been confirmed to kill all bacteria in a mile radius. Lethality is 100 percent, unless the victim is put on life support immediately, and injected with new micro-organisms.

(scrawled on the paper)
They aren't going to waste that treatment on your group, Sargassi. Be careful.
Head of Security Sarasgassi Mutusah's Briefing:
Sarasgassi Mutusah: Now you've read the weapons list. And it isn't pretty. If this thing wakes up from hibernation or whatever the fuck it's doing, and decides to act the way it was before, we're fucked. But that doesn't mean we're not going to try to contain it. A report should be coming soon. I've heard rumors that the people upstairs might even lend us a stasis field. They might use the beloved taxpayers money to build it a vacuum cell. It so, lucky us. It's locked up pretty tightly then. Good. But if they suddenly decided to be stringy, or for some reason we don't get any good gear, or it takes to long, we're not going to freak out. It's going to be business as usual, ok? We're just going to have to put our trust in our guns. We're going to do this in an orderly fashion no matter how much it worries us. No visitors unless permission from the O5s. The room is guarded at all time. We're going to install titanium reinforcements. Set up a camera feed and throw in some plated glass. Don't roll your eyes at me Johnson. You think I give a fuck that it can break through? It makes the scientists feel better. We're going to patrol the hallways surrounding the room. I want all the adjacent rooms in lock down so this thing doesn't inadvertently cause a mass escape. Hell, in fact, I'm putting this whole site in lock down until this thing gets figured out….
Juan Gonalez: Them I'm guessing topside-
Sarasgassi Mutusah: Yeah (twirls finger) get the tanks rolling… well i think that should be it… oh if any of you don't have heavy arms yet, go to the weapons master and get equipped… What was that? You think I care if Gatling guns strain your back? Ok, get out of here and get to work… wait… I want a full shift around the clock too! No skeleton crew!
(groans)
Sarasgassi Mutusah: You think you guys could sleep anyways after hearing about this thing?
Audio Log of Conversation between Doctor Buried and Doctor Rumez:
Doctor Rumez: What is that red light going around and around The Virus? Its been projecting it for hours. And I've looked at the security footage and it has touched almost every part of the base.
Doctor Buried: We discovered that it lingers, almost imperceptibly, on computer, books, and other writings.
Doctor Rumez: ….are you…
Doctor Buried: It's a translator, Vanessa.
Audio Log of The Virus' cell at 2100 hours:
The Virus: LINGUISTIC SYNTHESIS COMPLETE. 100 PERCENT. COMMENCE COMMUNICATION (legs pop back out of head and it stands up)
Doctor Buried: Oh my god.
The Virus: COMMUNICATION HAS BEEN DEEMED STRATEGIC BY BATTLE CORE. IT IS IN MY BEST INTERESTS TO ENDEAVOUR TO CEASE HOSTILITIES. I DID NOT KNOW YOU WERE CONSCIOUS ENTITIES BEFORE.
Doctor Buried: ah… were…do you come… who… where did you come from?
The Virus: FOR-
(loud sound blares all other noises)
Transcript of Conversation between Doctor Gregore and Sarasgassi Mutusah:
Doctor Gregore: Turn the god dam alarm off!
Sarasgassi Mutusah: My evacuation orders are still in effect. I have deemed the situation-
Doctor Gregore: It's not attacking! It's talking!
Sarasgassi Mutusah: Excuse me?
Doctor Gregore: It's sentient!
Audio Log of The Virus' cell at 2134 Hours:
Prof. Stringnik: What is your name?
The Virus: MY IDENTIFICATION NUMBER IS VIRAL ORGANISM 133345355675 BUILT IN STATION 3435353533535353.
Prof. Stringnik: What is your function?
The Virus: I AM A WAR MACHINE WITH ESPIONAGE , REPLICATING, AND SCOUT ABILITIES SPECIFICALLY DESIGNED TO EXCEL ON EARTH.
Prof. Stringnik: War machine? who are fighting against?
The Virus: THE BACTERIUM, THE RULING POWER ON THIS PLANET.
Prof. Stringnik: What? Human beings are the-
The Virus: NEGATIVE. UNTIL YESTERDAY IT WAS UNKNOWN THAT YOU WERE EVEN CONSCIOUS.
Prof. Stringnik: I see… ah… so tell more of the conflict between your kind and the Bacterium.
The Virus: THEY CLAIM WE ARE INVADERS. THAT WE HAVE NO RIGHT TO BE HERE. THEY SAY THEY ARE THE OWNERS OF THIS WORLD. THE SHEPHERDS OF THE FLESH GLOBULES. THEY INHABIT THE GREAT STRUCTURES, MULTIPLY AND CHANGE THEM. THEY ARE AMBASSADORS TO THE DEEP MOLDS WHO WE MUST DESTROY. WE DUEL IN BATTLEFIELDS OF MEAT ACID AND IN THE WET BETWEEN.
Prof. Stringnik: Why are you so large when all the others of your kind are small?
The Virus: I AM NOT AN ANOMALY. I AM SIMPLY NOT MEANT TO BE IN THIS UNIVERSE. I COME FROM AN ALTERNATE PERMUTATION. IT IS UNWIELDY TO MOVE UNDER ONES OWN POWER FROM THE VOID TO THE ASSIGNED PLANET, SO WE USE TELEPORTATION. IT IS RARE BUT NOT UNHEARD FOR THE WORMHOLE TO DISPLACE THE TRAVELER IN PARALLEL AXIS.
Prof. Stringnik: So in your home dimension, everyone's this big?
The Virus: AFFIRMATIVE.
Prof. Stringnik: Do you have any plans or means to return?
The Virus: I AM CURRENTLY BEING TRACKED. A CONNECTION WILL BE ESTABLISHED AND REMAIN OPEN UNTIL I ENTER.
Prof. Stringnik: I see. Can someone else take over for me? I have to talk to an overseer.
Interview Four with The Virus:
Doctor Gung: Why did you go on that rampage when you entered our reality?
The Virus: I WAS IN PANIC MODE. THE ENVIRONMENT WAS ONE I WAS NOT PROGRAMMED FOR. IT DEFIED MY LOGIC SYSTEMS. COHERENCY WAS AT 43 PERCENT.
Doctor: Really? What caused you to stop?
The Virus: AFTER SEVERAL IMPROBABLE EVENTS OCCURRED I REALIZED I WAS BEING ASSAULTED BY INTELLIGENT CREATURES. IF I COULD INTEGRATE THEIR PROCESS', I WOULD BE ABLE TO SEE THE SURROUNDINGS THROUGH THEIR PARADIGM. THIS WOULD HALT DEGENERACY.
Doctor Gung: So now you're fine? You're at an acceptable level?
The Virus: NEGATIVE. SANITY IS STILL SLIPPING, HOWEVER IT IS AT A SLIGHTLY SLOWER RATE. THE ARTIFICIAL MIND I HAVE CREATED TO CONVERSE WITH YOU DAMAGES THE ORIGINAL PRE SET PARAMETERS. IN TWO POINT FIVE HOURS A MARKEDLY INCREASE IN AGGRESSION, PANIC, AND ANALYSIS FAILURE WILL BE OBVIOUS TO OUTSIDE OBSERVERS. WHEN IT REACHES THIS I MUST SHUT DOWN AND DETONATE, SINCE NO RETRIEVAL TEAM IS SENT FOR ME.
Doctor Gung: Is there any way to continue this exchange without harming your mind?
The Virus: (it lowers its bodies and a twisted object extends out of its head, a blue, glowing, extension that looks like a light filament) INJECTION INTO THE LOWER STATUS LIFEFORM TO YOUR LEFT WOULD CREATE A COPY OF ME THAT COULD RETAIN PARTS OF A HUMAN MIND. THIS COULD BE USED TO FACILITATE A EASIER UNDERSTANDING.
Doctor Gung: oh god no… no..we don't want to do that, at least not yet.
Extract from Classified Overseer Material:
A few signs that require a BI-class end of the world scenario to be declared is the presence of a technology, organization, or entity that could feasibly open up a portal from one dimension to another, where some force capable of invasion resides. Another is if a large group of aliens arrive within our solar system or have the means to do so in a short span of time. Do not focus on the differences between the two situations, and subsets in one situation, it is not the width or distance that matters, or the metaphorical closeness between alterations of the timeline or laws of physics, only the ease that they could reach Earth, whether this be from a complete different plane of existence or the moon.
Note from Overseer ██████ to Overseer █████:
I know Professor Stringnik is pushing for a BI but he always does ignore the more mundane issues. Probably cause they're too boring. What about a NK-class? I know it's not as exciting, but did you hear the tapes? Any guess on how big the detonation going to be?
Interview Five:
Prof. Stringnik: Just one final question.
The Virus: YES?
Prof. Stringnik: Why do you persist in scanning? I thought you said you translated enough already. And yes we detected it. You thought you could hide it from us by putting it on another frequency?
THE VIRUS: I SCAN FOR INFORMATION.
Prof. Stringnik: But isn't additional data detrimental to your stability?
The Virus: INDEPENDENT DETACHED PROCESSORS HAVE DETERMINED THAT MY SURVIVAL IS NEGLIGABLE COMPARED TO THE USEFULNESS OF THE INFORMATION I AM CURRENTLY OBTAINING.
Prof. Stringnik: Useful? Useful for what!
Incident Report 6001-XX-32:
Witness: Igor Black Date:██/██/██/
Soon after the sixth interview with the virus, a temporal disturbance was detected approximately one yard away to its right. The Virus immediately begin moving towards what appeared to me to be a window, that wavered like a heat vision, on the wall. As there were barriers separating its cell from the portal, the virus had to use force to reach its destination. It lifted up one leg and in a throwing motion spun a small disc against the wall. The disc attached to the wall and then exploded, created a hole which it walked through. It did this three other times for three other walls all the while getting hit with rifle fire. As it reached the-
Extract from Monthly Psychological Review of Stephen Foot:
Stephen Foot: And I looked in and jesus… I saw… I saw these colors and these perspectives. And the sounds were indescribable, thumping and clashing louder than planes taking off. Booming from the hole. And then I saw this giant blob that was expanding and twitching these little tentacles on its body. Since the rip was floating in the air, it looked like this thing, this blob was floating there too. And there's this black pole off in the side… I think… I think it was a human hair!
Extract from the Journal of Doctor Buried:
Right it before it entered the portal, it paused and faced us. Everyone stopped shooting. It begin to talk, and I actually thought it was trying to leave on a… I don't know…friendly note. It said in a bewildered, well I guess as bewildered as that computer voice could sound, tone "You think? I did…i did not know this" I felt this ray of hope, like we had connected with something, maybe not an alliance, but some kind of understanding. Good things could come out of this knowledge. But then it said kind of quietly "You think… I will tell them… I will….many will infect your minds and become one… will control….. this will help us" And then it left…
What have we done to the other world? What have we done to this one?
Extract from the Journal of Doctor Cooker:
You know, psychics and telepaths, no matter how well they train, no matter how well their mental blocks are, always hear this static in the background. while laying down. while thinking quietly. while sleeping. it was always assumed this was because while they could block out constantly listening in on a conscious level, they still hear the thoughts of others ever so slightly, a mumbling that wouldn't go away. but what if it's not people's thoughts? what if it's just… little minds… very tiny ones… that if anyone actually stopped ignoring like they were suppose to for one moment and tried to reach, would be discovered to be completely alien?


Not up to scale

Incident Report 5615-XX-16
Witness: Charles Vuncouth Date: ██/██/██/
Synopsis: At 1500 hours, I was told by my direct superiors that I was going to be airdropped into a neighborhood in the city of ██████, to deal with a situation that had been positively confirmed by previous field agents to require Foundation assistance. The problem was told to me to be of a viral nature, far beyond the means of the Health Department and we were to take over for them, using any means necessary to stop the Virus from leaving the city-
Extract from Incident Report 5615-XX-3
Witness: Jonathen Toque Date: ██/██/██/
-and by following the pathway of fallen civilians and general chaos, we discerned that it traveled in a rather sharp curve from where it was first discovered in a northwest direction. The streets that had been affected were in a state of panic, caused by terror, and most of the populace was either hysterical or rioting. The surrounding environment was in flames, cars were flipped over, and-
Memo from team Doctor:
Doctor: And the symptoms are headaches, nausea,-
Partial Transcript of Agent Filding and Agent Cincluire's Conversation:
Agent Filding: I hate it when Doctor Figerald leaves the worst symptoms for last. The list just goes on and on and then…
Agent Cincluire: I know what you mean. I think he gets some sadistic glee out of it. Starts it out slow and then… by the end you're shivering, crapping your pants.
Audio Log 5615-YY-1
Agent Filding: JESUS CHRIST! How the hell did it do that?! (Agent Filding is indicating a large smoking hole on the chest of victim Number 348.)
Extract from Incident Report 5615-XX-5
Witness: Cuthbert Figerald Date: ██/██/██/
-spontaneous combustion, the searing of limbs, the flesh exploding off the frame of the body, and first degree burns. As most of the effects of The Virus seemed to involve heat and large outpouring of energy, tentatively identified as plasma beams, I advised the team to-
Extract from Incident Report 5615-XX-3
Witness: Jonathen Toque Date: ██/██/██/
-All of the survivors have been terminated so far, and the Virus was quarantined in ██████████████ Hostipal. We blocked off the entrance and exits, and did a quick sweep of the area. After this was completed, I was ordered by Commander Riger to split up with a second squad and patrol the first floor, while squad four was to search for any ways out of the building and guard them, and squads three and five searched for any other civilians. Squad One-
Transcript of conversation between Commander Riger and O-5 ███████████:
O-5: You know what I'll have to do if it isn't stopped in an hour.
Commander Riger: Planes already ready, sir?
0-5: Affirmative.
Commander Riger: Napalm?
O-5: Something like that, but a little more advanced. You know the boys, always finding ways to reinvent the wheel.
Commander Riger: Well, it's not like we can use the procedures we normally do on this virus.
0-5: (chuckles) You're right about that, Jim, you're right about that.
Commander Riger: You know what Charles Vuncouth said he was going put in his report if he survived? Some little quip. Little Bastard. He's like-
Log of Agent Robertson and Agent Dunkupt conversation:
Agent Dunkupt: AH! AH! (sprays the ceiling with bullet fire)
Agent Robertson: What's your problem man! Calm down!
Agent Dunkupt: I thought I saw something up there, man! Jesus. This whole thing is creeping me out. (Looks around corner nervously)
Agent Robertson: Just take a deep breath and focus.
Agent Dunkupt: I know, I know, I just… have you seen what it does to its victims? I don't want to end up like them!
Extract from civilian interview 5435:
███████████ ████ : It came at me on these freakish spidery legs. My husband, can you believe it-
Extract from a Foundation handbook: Most of the infections we deal with only catch our attention because they pose an incredible danger, for one of two reasons; a high rate of transfer, or the disease will in some way transform the sufferer instead of killing them, either into a simple carrier with violent or unsettling traits, or in the case of a complex SCP, a single part of a hive mind. These victims are to be treated as enemies, and given no mercy or quarter.
Camera Footage from Agent Bykansis' Helmet:
(a civilian is on his knees. Agent Cunderham is pointing a rifle at his forehead)
██████ ██████: You don't have to do this! Please! I have a family, I have-
Agent Cunderham: Yes I do…
Agent Bykansis: Shoot him before the virus-
(the civilian begins moaning and twitching)
Agent Cunderham: Jesus!
(Commander Riger walks over to the civilian, and discharges a service pistol to his head)
Extract from Incident Report 5615-XX-3
-There was a slight scratching behind the wall. We were worried that it might be civilians, so we sent a team through the door. The noise soon became even louder, and highly audible. It would stop and the start, making a disturbing sound, like something was clawing lightly on the other side. Most of the men became frantic and seemed to be waiting for something, although I commend their courage. When-
Extract Incident Report 5615-XX-6
Witness: Melissa Elle Date: ██/██/██/
At this point, the Virus burst through the wall. It landed and then almost in the same instance impaled Agent Robertson on one of its extremely thin spidery legs. After that, it lifted up another appendage. The limb was razor sharp all the way up until the middle, where it became slightly, almost unnoticeably bulkier. From my view, it looked like some sort of mechanism was strapped on. From this thickness out of what I perceived to be a hole, shot a quick beam of light, with a tail much like a flare. This rocket, in my belief, hit Agent Mer, exploded, killing him and wounding those near by. The Virus then climbed up the wall and onto the ceiling, where it moved quickly from side to side, avoiding us. It attacked almost like it was trapped. Although I could not fully perceive it due to its speed, it looked like a thin metallic looking tube with a crystalline many-faceted shape on top. This shape was transparent and filled with one small strand, and many little air bubbles containing glowing lights. The Virus then landed in the middle of our squad and begin emitting lasers out of its pores on its outer shell. These lasers decapitated Agents Munch and Agents Doorctun, and severed the hand of Doctor Vanesten. Its crystalline part then begin to spin and emit a throbbing pulse that had no observed effect.
Extract from the rough draft of a SCP report:
Description: SCP-XXX is a bacteriophage approximately 1 billion times larger than found in nature. It has several alterations from our knowledge of a common virus, although if this is because it is changed in different ways along with its size, or because these weapons and abilities simply can not be detected by our technology (microscope and otherwise) is unknown at the time. It has the ability to reason and strategize, although it was described as "skittish" "afraid" "confused" and "unsure of its self" by civilians at the scene of its capture. Once again, if this intellect is a natural product of the environment, found in our world as well, or a mutation is deeply related to the question above.
A note from the Administrative Secretary to Charles Vuncouth:
You think you're funny throwing in all your snide comments? "Of a viral nature" and "you don't think the heath department can handle it". No shit they can't handle it up! You need to stop with the jokes… this is serious business.
Extract from Incident Report 5615-XX-2
Witness: Norman Riger Date: ██/██/██/
It must be remarked that almost all The Virus' actions besides its ambush were of a defensive nature. Although it is of a highly advanced design, it was bewildered and most likely experiencing a sensory overload. I decided to capitalize on this and overwhelm it with firepower. My men and I formed a circle around the virus (unsafe, I know, but it was in the heat of the moment) and began shooting away. It seemed frightened and quelled. A grenade thrown bounced off it and exploded. At this point, its head begin spinning again, however this time extremely rapidly. Its legs began jerking and moving, and as it rotated it began to drill into the ground. It soon drilled through the second floor and then while falling, pierced the first. We had planned for this eventuality and an explosive in the sewer tunnels launched the object up into the air, which is when we shot several nets at it, entangling it. It fell on the street. After a few minutes of laying there, its legs retreated into its body and it righted itself, so only the transparent part was laying there. As we reached it, a beaded red light projected from a specific follicle. This light scanned the entire area around it and continued to do so even after we loaded it up into the helicopter.
Interview with civilian 135345:
██████████████ ██████████: I was there when it appeared. It was in the middle of the mall and all of a sudden this rip in the middle of the air appears. It's just floating there, and it starts getting bigger and bigger and this sucking sound comes from it. Then this leg gracefully extends, hovers for a second, and the whole monster comes hopping out. It lands, and then just stands there, turning its ah… head thing slightly. Everyone screaming and running away but after five minutes, all the cowards are gone, and it's just the adventurous souls like me left. We start going around it. It's still just standing there, motionless, like a statue. And then this one guy, he's like full of awe or something, reaches out to touch it. He gets like a centimeter away, and all of a sudden there's this weird machine sound and the head spins, and attached to it on the bottom is this blade, slices the guys head off. Then the thing just breaks loose and starts sprinting, I mean, really all out, towards the window. There's this fat security cop in the way and he can't get away in time, so the creature lifts one of its legs while still running and just blows the guy away. Then when it gets to the window it leaps through the glass and lands on the street, in the middle of the busy street and starts running down it, flipping over cars and getting hit by them, too. And you could tell it was freaking out. It didn't know what way to go. It would stop and then head some other direction. I don't think it was bad, just… so alien…
Footage from Sergent Mongel's helmet camera:
(Sergent Mongel and Agent Hitchins are shooting wildly at the Virus with assault rifles.)
Mongel: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! God! God! Get back!
(It begins heading towards them. They move backwards and then kneel, expending even more ammo, which seems to have no effect.)
Hitchins: Fuck! OH GOD! shit! Kill the motherfucker, kill it!
Mongel: (screaming)
(The virus is a few feet away, it lifts a foot. Before it can activate any attack, Agent Lukcan jumps in the middle and stabs it with a knife. Only the hilt is pulled away, smoking, and he is knocked aside with one leg, slamming against a wall. Both Hitchins and Mongel are now screaming unintelligibly.)
Memo from the team Doctor:
Doctor: And the symptoms are headaches, nausea, nightmares, shock, flashbacks, and inability to live daily normal life. Post combat stress disorder is a serious illness, please come to me, someone who was there with you, or one of your counselors. It was quite a battle we faced yesterday.


After getting quite a few technical issue notes attached straight to my personnel file, I've decided to update the servers with a tech issue file. Place a dated note or comment into the tech files and I will get to it as soon as possible. The previous notes have been moved from my personnel file to the page, and I encourage any returned notes to be placed as responses. Thank you.
Note: 01-10-09
Gep, I have an internal server error 571 while trying to contact the Foundation, gimme a scan for probable hackers and track their source locations ASAP! -CarrionTrooper

Note:
Internal Service Error 571? … Am I reading this correctly? Five-seventy-one? … …
Were you holding the device upside-down? -Pat

Note: 01-10-09
Don't worry about Carrion, Pat. We taught him everything the wrong way, on purpose. It was a slow day, and Clef and Kondraki bet me I couldn't do it. Okay, maybe they didn't bet me, maybe they inferred it. Okay, maybe I just decided to try it on my own, so what? -Dr. Bright

Note:
Bright, please at least ATTEMPT to date your inquiries and such. It makes it a lot easier on ME. Please. For me.
And you tried what on your own? An Internal Service Error 571 isn't a hacking error of any type, Bright… so… what did you actually do? -Pat

Note: 01-10-09 Hey Pat, I do not hold my own laptop upside-down, and I am logging in from a secure location in Indonesia. How IS Dr. Bright able to do… whatever it is he did without hacking? - CarrionTrooper

Note:
A 571 is an error that shows when a message was unable to be sent at least four times. The only way Bright could've done anything is if he had canceled it from your terminal, or brought down an orbiting satelli-
Oh god. Bright!

Note: 01-11-09 Good news, Pat: the satellite burned out in re-entry and became quite the light show over Jakarta. So no worries there. Bad news is that since the Mumbai attacks, I've had to put the India servers in a semi-secure location. Drop me a line on when we can transfer the DBs to a new system; I can't keep the darned things at Bollywood forever, contrary to popular opinion. - Kamen

Note:
I've transferred the data already. Destroy any database where the data had been kept with some form of explosives. I don't know how strong, go check the rules. -Pat

Note: 01-11-09
Pat, just for the record, don't approach a group of people playing a game, ask them to play when you don't know the actual rules of the game, then go all PMS when they're mean to you. Also, your charisma score is far too high for you to be playing DnD. And what's the best way of cleaning dolphin semen off of a keyboard? -Agent Rapp

Note:
Use canola oil. Unplug it before cleaning. Rinse with water, dry 24 hours in a warm room, fixed. -Pat

Note:01-11-09
Um, Pat? I was looking at some websites, and I clicked on a link that told me my IP address was being reported to the FBI. Since I was using the computer in my office, will I get in trouble if the FBI come knocking at Site 19's door? Please help. :( - Trid

Note:
Are you kidding? We're behind more than seven proxies. You'll be fine. -Pat

Note: 01-11-09
So, Pat, a bunch of the printers at site 19 are down. Looks like someone hit them with a lamp. I think Dr. Rights might have found out where the calendars were being printed from. Any help? -Dr. Bright

Note:
Bright, you have to at least know how to send a requisition form. I'm not in charge of ordering new printers… not yet at least. -Pat

Note: 01-12-09
Pat? Somebody's replaced every single SCP report I've written with photos of me, containing, lets say, "adult content". I wouldn't care so much except that some of them have my boyfriend in them and I'd like for the other researchers to stop calling him a girl. Please and thank you, Pat! -Dr. Rights

Note:
DOCTOR, I don't have clearance to edit your files. Plus, I don't blame them. I mean, seriously, haircuts are like eleven dollars. -Pat

Note: 01-12-09
Hey Pat. Do you know how to make sure nobody's bugged my office phone? I need the line private so I can spend some quality time with Chris' voice… -Dr. Rights

Note:
As long as Bright hasn't bugged it in the last four hours. But let's be serious here: The chances he hasn't are slim. Perhaps you should invest in a cell. We could open it into the network. -Pat

Note: 01-12-09
Gep, I keep getting calls by somebody searching for a 'Chris', and when I asked who's calling the line was dropped. Though insofar I have managed to trace it to site-19, and I'm guessing someone's playing with the phone system… And act quick, I bet the superiors are going to have a fit if they discover the international phone bill. -CarrionTrooper

Note:
I could block the number, but next time just play along. ;) -Pat

Note: 01-12-09
Okay, what the fuck, where the hell did my bookmarks go? How am I supposed to make my daily quota of porn, violence, and schadenfreude now? Pat, get this under control or I'll assign you to debug Bright's computer. Yeah, all the spyware. -Dr. Kondraki

Note:
Joke's on you, doctor. I got him a new computer as of Clef's orders, and put a sheriff card in it. He doesn't have the ability to get spyware on it. -Pat

Note: 01-12-09
Mr. Gephart,
It appears that my login has been flagged again. This has happened in the past, resulting from tampering by staff members. I have been re-classed from “Researcher” to “SCP-217 Test Subject”. While I understand the “joke” in regards to my particularities of emotional response, this is preventing me from accessing Central Records and numerous other databases. While not vital in the immediate future, expedient resolution of this issue is requested.
In addition, please look into any measures that could be taken to prevent this in the future. This is the eighth time in three months this has happened.
Dr. Gears

Note:
I am not able to change your classification until you can prove that you are not an SCP-217 test subject. Sorry, doctor. -Pat

Note: 01-12-09
Pat,
Someone tried to log into my computer while I was gone and set off my customized positive action locks. Can you please order me a new box? Also, while you're at it, call housekeeping and tell them that there's another corpse that needs to be moved out of my office. Maybe they can ID it from dental records, if they can find the teeth.
Clef

Note: Doctor, you're being ridiculous. There's no such thing as a 'positive action' lock, and even if there was there'd be no way to customize it. Don't argue password protection with a hacker. And I'm not your personal pet, call your own damn housekeeping. -Pat

Note: 01-12-09
Morning.
I've had one of my agents working with 425 for some time now and it seems the little bugger absolutely loves to encrypt most anything digital.
This is great for some of the more sensitive documents, even using it on the files for 429… only problem is it seems that most of the other sites can't decrypt it with any modicum of success.
You seem like the sort of person to know about this stuff so I've uploaded a copy of "CYPHER C-429-K" in the hopes you can, ooh, I dunno, crack it and propagate it to the other sites? I don't think it'll affect anything still pending decryption but everything after that should come through cleanly.
Provided you do it right anyway… heh. - Kulzn

Note: I can run it through some cypher cracking programs, and I can attempt to break it by hand but that'll take a while. I'll do my best, but I dunno what to tell you. -Pat

Note: 01-12-09
Dimwit,
Did I say "positive action lock?" I'm sorry, I meant my foot up your fsking ass. Just order me a new damn computer already, and make sure there's enough room for me to put in a claymore mine. - Clef

Note: Thank you for holding. Your call is very important to us. Please remain on the line, and your call will be answered in the order it was received. You are currently the… four… thousand… seven… hundred… sixty… second person in the queue. Please note: for quality assurance and training purposes, your call will be monitored and recorded.

Note: 01-13-09
Paaaaat my scanner's not working again and I have no idea what wires got bumped this time. There's a fresh-baked Dutch Apple Pie for you if you can teach me how to plug the damn thing in correctly. - Dr. Rights

Note: The wires were fine. The power box was a little wiggy on that particular plug, but I re-soldered the ground back up and it should be working now.
I especially like how you bribed the diabetic with a dutch apple pie. -Pat

Note: 01-14-09
Diabetes? You should have 212 look at that. I hear having all your organs and blood replaced with biomechanical sacks will cure that right up. And what's the best way of getting horse semen off of a CRT monitor?

Note: Thanks but no thanks.
Unplug, paint thinner, scrub, rinse, let dry 24 hours. -Pat

Note: 02-06-09
Hey Pat, could you give me some of the files on how to crack the CIA database again? I forgot the part where the data access prevention program is to be shut… and it seems that a corrupted file's the only thing standing between me and this latest SCP info. Advice please? -carriontrooper

That's not going to happen. The CIA database doesn't even HAVE SCP info, and if there were any corrupt files, I'd know. You don't have clearance to the CIA files, or it would be available to you.
Stop trying to break my security measures. -Pat

Note: 02-06-09
Pat- Seriously, just ignore Trooper. It's the easiest way. i mean, seriously, who cracks the CIA database? We've all got access codes. Well, all of us who need them anyways. What was I saying? Oh, yeah! My hard drive turned into a Muppet, can you get me a new one? -Dr. Bright

Bright, if you keep doing this, eventually you're gonna be the one who gets screwed over. You just lost all your porn AGAIN, man. Isn't it getting boring, having to redownload it all constantly? Repairs completed, but damn, try to be careful? -Pat

Note: 02-07-09
Boss,
While testing security protocols and checking the database's integrity, I got 24 Keter-Level Containment Breach notifications; and Mark IV lockdown procedures were triggered all over the fucking place. After three shots of vodka and the acquisition of a shotgun from the locker, I called to see if there was anybody alive and they told me that no containment breach occurred nor any Mark IV or any other kind of Lockdown procedures were in place.
I can't find the reason of this security mismatch, my best bet is that somebody fucked with the codes as a little practical joke. However I'm not fully authorized to access the security protocols regarding Keter-Level security monitoring. Can you check who or what the hell triggered those bogus alarms?
-Pat Gibbons

Ehhhhh, fuck. When you start messing with my programming… you see, I put little trip wires into the database, to make sure that anyone who was trying to fuck with it got locked in WITH it. You know, catch the intruders. You tripped the wire by trying to access a restricted file from a terminal that I specifically told NOT to allow access. Please only access files with Class 4 or higher security from your own private terminal, Doctor. -Pat

Note: 02-08-09
Okay, damnit, I won't do it again. Promise.
Anyways, server 35 is inaccessible; and all the troubleshooting I performed on it (Software and Hardware) gave no tangible results. I can't really say if the problem affects the entire Site, but I did check on three different terminals, all with the same results. Can you go check it out?
-Pat Gibbons

Yeah, sure. I'll just go o-…
It's… it's gone. It's just… gone. Where did Server 35 go?
I have a feeling Clef or Bright is behind this. Either one of them or the Janitor; that guy seems to know all the passwords before *I* even know them.
Do we need to, like, set off security, Doctor?

Note: 02-08-09
What. The. Fuck?
My computer just fuckin' EXPLODED. Well, the monitor anyway. I just barely avoided having a large overheated plastic piece embedded in my skull! Can you look into what the hell caused this and maybe recommend a replacement that is less at risk of a similar failure? Also how best to get blood off a keyboard and an external disk drive?
-Agent "Damn, that's gonna require stitches…" Thornton

I have edited your file. We apologize for the inconvenience - your new recognized name is 'Damn-that's-gonna-require-stitches Thornton'. Someone didn't fill the 'First Name' box out. Weird.
Anyway, yeah, I can tell you exactly what happened. You were being stupid. How many things do you need plugged into that poor little Gateway? A fucking USB fan? Seriously? You have twenty high-stress-bearing outlets, and you have to have a normal cool-yourself-off fan plugged into your computer?
I'm not getting you a replacement ANYTHING until you learn what a requirement is, and what a non-requirement is. Dammit.

Note: 02-09-09
Hey, Pat. We have a joker here who is impersonating Agent Thornton and pretending that his security pass labeled "Damn, that's gonna require stitches… Thornton" is genuine. Everything else checks out, except the name (honestly, as hilariously appropriate as it is, it is not exactly a bright choice… We're not Australian APEC security, dammit!), and the guy is getting increasingly threatening. I swear if this doesn't check off there's going to be an attempted break-in and the issue with self-resolve…
-Agent Moore, security

I don't know how someone would get their hands on an official pass labeled something so ironically truthful. I would figure you'd have some 'shoot to kill' rule on infiltrators. Hmm.

Note: 02-13-09
Now first off this is entirely hypothetical, but what would you say was the best course of action for removing a sentient and bloody malicious program that started out as a simple cipher? And just for the hell of it let's pretend it's managed to make a little factory for itself and is cannibalising site materials to make strange and unseemly machines? I suggested fire but the others here aren't too keen on being burnt alive, the pussies. And if I can do it without unlocking the doors and going back inside, all the better. Purely hypothetical you understand, but you can see where I'm going with this. - Agent Kulzn

Let's assume, for hypothetical purposes, that your cipher evolved into something that for some reason, is actually affecting the real world. Let's also assume that it actually wants to kill people, which is breaking the first rule of robotics.
I would suggest taking whatever the program is on, and… well… formatting it? Permanently? Or incinerating it… or something… I'd incinerate the machines too, just to be sure.

Note: 02-13-09
Hey Pat? How come the X-6711 satellite we put in orbit a few weeks ago isn't transmitting? I've checked with the guys over at the uplink, and no reply from there. Attached are the logs of last transmission. Most of it is Bright's porn, but look at lines 16 - 34, I'm not familiar with them… Find out what happened to the sat willya? - carriontrooper

Uhhh… yeah. Sure.
Constantly with the satellites, aren't you? I mean, they're worthless satellites. The only thing they're used for is recreational activities and porn and such. The field agents don't even use those satellites to transfer data, because they're not secure.
Let me make this absolutely clear. Stop worrying about the damned satellites. I'm trying to create cameras to keep living statues from moving. I'm trying to keep twenty locations connected through an absolutely secure network. I've got more important things to do then sitting around worrying about unimportant satellites.

That satellite went down on the 10th when it collided with Russian satellite Kosmos-2251. Lines 16-34 were proximity data, warning the uplink operator of the imminent collision. The operator has since been reassigned to Keter containment duty. Any further questions concerning space operations should be given to me; a space operations page is forthcoming. -Fifth 06 Apr 2009

Note: 02-15-09
Hey Pat, me again. My Winamp playlist has become psychically linked to my mood again, can you fix that? It's a little annoying when it picks mood music for me, even if it's useful for picking ominous music when I need to be wary. But it's getting a little annoying. After all, I don't need everybody to know what I'm actually thinking about. People get a little suspicious when "Get Ready To Die" starts playing every time they walk into my office. - Dr. Rights

Yeah, sure, darling. I can look into it. I mean, I don't really know how you're doing this, but I guess I can try to do something with it… maybe some sort of TeleKill frame on it or something?
I do have to point out though, have you considered just… deleting "Get Ready to Die" from your computer?

Note: 02-18-09
Hey Pat, hope you don't mind me borrowing a number of your servers and wireless equipment to set up my pirate radio station for Site 17. I'm sure you'll appreciate it in the long run, after all what's a more worthy endeavor than the entertainment of our personnel? On that note, I'm sure you'll be fine with taking part of the blame when they crack down on it. Heck, I'll even give you a reserved slot so you can listen whenever you please(Hope you've got a taste for ambient breakcore with embedded terror memes). -Dr. Kondraki

Note: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YxZJYbVd1hE -Pat

Note: 02-21-09
Two problems for you, Pat. Number one, my digital camera and wireless mouse seem to have come to life and are fighting to the death, and they attack me whenever I try to get close. I think the batteries I bought were possessed. How do I disable batteries from a distance without damaging the mouse or camera? And secondly, once they're disabled, how do I get dog semen off of the lens of the camera? -Agent Rapp

Note: Sorry. I accidentally destroyed them. I was only trying to, you know, subdue them.
With a hammer.
Guess you don't have to worry about the dog semen! -Pat

Note: 03-03-09
Pat,
Some-fucking-how I managed to access Server No. 35 in Security Station Alpha, using the old Deutera access protocol. The files were corrupted, but the kicker is that the server is STILL gone. PHYSICALLY gone. As in, nothing there where Server 35 is supposed to be.
So tell me, what the fuck is going on? And more importantly, how do I remove the Deutera protocol and put back the current Tetarti one? If somebody knows I've been tampering with the security stations without doing that pile of paperwork, I might be elevated to Keter duty. And you don't want to know about the last time I voluntarily did Keter duty.
-Pat Gibbons

Note: Heh.
You underestimate my speed and current workload, Doctor. I may have a thousand things on my list, but I managed to install a NEW Server 35 in a different location. Check Lab 4A6 and you'll find it. Also, the Deutera protocols only work because you are a Doctor, Doctor. I kept those up for the higher-ups. Lower levels can't access through it. But, if you're complaining, I'll take it off the higher accounts, as you wish. -Pat

Note: 03-05-09
Mr. Gephart,
There was a minor security breach today in Lab 20, during testing with SCP-457. The situation is now contained, however there was extensive damage to both the Lab, and the adjoining secured server room. The data was dumped to a emergency back-up system, however it is now partially encrypted and in a state of extreme disarray.
Please recover this data in as timely a manner as possible, and oversee the installation of a new server. I would assign my assistant Iceberg to help, however he is currently processing paperwork for the incident, along with several hardware and authorization requests related to a personal project I am engaged in.
In addition, should you encounter any form of embers or flame while installing the new server, be advised these are most likely SCP-457. Immediately lock down the area, and attempt to avoid SCP-457 until response teams arrive.
Dr. Gears

Note: No, Doctor.
Contain SCP-457, and then I'll install a new server. Backup data is encrypted by standard protocol and is easy to access. I can run it somewhere else easily. I'm not, however, risking my ass to install a server (an eight hour job) in a room that could contain living fire. -Pat

Note: 03-08-09
Pat,
I accidentally the whole Server 35
Love,
-Pat Gibbons

Note:
Not THE WHOLE SERVER! -Pat

Note: 08-0Q-26
Hey there, son.
My computer won't make an internet. Do I have to right-click my desktop, or unzip my hard drives?
Thanks for the help, eh.
-Director Ghost

Note:
Internet? What is this 'internet' you speak of, Director? -Pat

Note: __35-24-9001
Dearest Mr. Gephart
If you're reading this, then you're pretty much fucked in the ass as it is.
Toodles,
SCP-███

Note:
Bring it on, bitch.
I eat glitches like you for breakfast, and shit compiled Basic out before bed.
Fondest regards. - Pat

Note: 3-16-09
Mr. Gephart? Me and the other research assistants have been having some problems whenever we try to access the Foundation network. We keep seeing "Error Code 18-Insufficient Security Clearance". There's no way that can be right, especially since even some of the D-class have been getting access, while we're still being denied! If you could fix this we'd appreciate it, especially since we need the network to collect our pay.
-Dr. Gerald

Note:
The other researcher assistants and I, doctor. "The other research assistants and I are having problems…" I know grammar is a hard topic, but you can do it with just a little work. I promise. -Pat

Note 4-1-09
Pat. My computer has been stolen by Dr. Rights. She glued me to my desk, then walked out of the room with my computer, claiming to have 'insufficient room' on her own. It took me three hours to work myself free of the glue. Please advise. ~Dr. Dumount
Note 4-1-09
My computer now. :D -Rights

Wow, glue? I always figured you for the 'break-someone's-wrist-and-handcuff-it-to-the-office-chair' type of girl. Who the hell is 'Dr. Dumount'? Anyway, enjoy your new computer. Hope it doesn't do the whole music-telepathy thing. -Pat

Note 4-16-09
Pat. Again my computer has vanished. This time replaced with a note saying 'you'll get mr. mopsey back when I receive $5000'. Given that I do not know a Mr. Mopsey, what the hell should I do? ~Dr. Dumount

Perhaps you could stop losing your computer. -Pat

Note 4-19-09
Dude, please tell me that win32 isn't an important system? - Arch

Okay, let me try to make this simple for you.
Lets say that your body is your computer. Let's say that your arms are the word processing programs, your cock is the games, your legs are search utilities.
Win32 is your heart. You figure it out. -Pat

Note 4-24-09
Pat. I purchased a new computer, it's got a very nonstandard operating system cobbled together for use in hospitals. I'm honestly more comfortable with it than with these windows machines, and since few other people here are trained in the Medical Update Multiuser Programming System (MUMPS) I can be fairly sure no one will steal it. Unfortunately it's having trouble interfacing with the network. May I have advice on how to get it to work with the Foundation's network? ~Dr. Dumount

Required to destroy computer purchased from outside sources by Dr. Dumount, after the whole thing was viral, containing a keylogger and many Trojan programs. Also, the thing was a piece of shit. MAJOR SECURITY BREACH. Recommending severe punishment toward Dr. Dumount for not running the thing through a Network Security checkpoint or even FUCKING TELLING ME that he brought a computer from outside sources into the area. -Pat

Note 4-26-09
Pat. The servers have been coughing some really weird error messages at me (like 001: "Data expunged"). According to agent Thornton, they might actually be some sort of code. Can you look into it please? ~Dr. Ziegler
Note 4-29-09
Zeigler, it means that the data isn't available, it's been purged or blocked. Now, Pat, why the hell is my members page gone? ~Dr. Frohman
Note 4-29-09
Frohman, to the best of my knowledge, our servers use the standard HTTP/IP protocol, which explicitly does not allow for error codes starting with 0. I'm curious to hear your interpretation of 00π: "Circular argument"… ~Dr. Ziegler

I've got a fucking idea. Want to hear my fucking idea? Great, here it goes.
DON'T HAVE FUCKING HISSY-FIT ARGUMENTS IN THE FUCKING TECHNICAL ISSUES LOG.
Ziegler, you're an idiot scientist who doesn't have high enough clearance. Frohman, you're an idiot scientist who hasn't been around long enough to get a members page. -Pat

Note 5-06-09
Yeah, you of all people would know about my f*cking clearance level. After all you're the one who downgraded it in the first place after that USB mind reading debacle! (BTW I still contend the technology was sound, dammit.)
In any case, can you at least keep the server from coughing up an "error 707: Psychic incident" and destroying half my files whenever I try to do routine USGS datamining? ~Dr. Ziegler

See, this is the kind of stuff I'm talking about, people. Do you realize how much work it is to keep these computers operational? And all I ask is that you keep the psychic-computer connection limited. Maybe you should stop trying to get Geological information unless you need it.
Seriously, when has geological information mining been 'routine'? -Pat

Note 5-07-09
Pat. The point of the last computer was to be a piece of shit so no one could steal it. Apparently you thought it was too much of a POS for your network. Therefore may I requisition a computer that's exactly enough of a POS that no one will steal it while still being good enough for me to perform my work on? Especially clinician's notes? Thanks in advance. Also as a side note: I'm not a programmer, but since when did computers explode violently? I've had three people come into medbay with computer explosion related injuries today. ~Dr. Dumount

Doctor, you will fill out the computer requisition forms, just like everyone else. -Pat

Note 5-07-09
PLEASE tell me that's not another SCP-670 containment breach. ~Dr. Crawley

Nah, brah. I just like putting firecrackers into the hard drives. -Pat

Note 5-11-09
Pat. My most recent machine (That I acquired from the Foundation after filling out the requisition form) is freaking me out. It claims to have come from the future, and late at night it whispers that it will devour my soul. This is making sleeping in my office (my standard practice) rather difficult. Do you know any priests I could use to exorcise my computer? ~Dr. Dumount

NOTE: COMPUTER REQUISITION REPAIR FORM A33ES6T1
Patrick Gephart
I have requisitioned Doctor Dumount's computer. After severe lack of protocol being followed, time and time again he has had computer problems in which I cannot and care not to explain.
I have taken his latest one because he claims that some sort of 'evil spirit' possess it or some shit. I don't know.
I'll give it back to him as soon as he proves he is old enough to handle the responsibility of possessing his own computer.
Until then, I have voided his account's abilities down to simple word processing and internet viewing. I feel this is more his tech level.
Repair Time: Indetermined
PLEASE PASS MEMO ON TO ALL O5 OFFICERS AND TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

You'll get it back when you can stop bitching about little things like possession. Holy hell, are you an SCP researcher or AREN'T you? -Pat

Note 5-06-09
Re:USGS data mining, It's a temporary situation. We haven't been able to replace the last agent in charge in there after the latest incident. But then Ziegler is having problem because Dr. Rights installed some sort of Trojan on his computer (I think It's related to SCP-050) and there's no way we're gonna tell him and risk messing her plans. Too dangerous. -Agent Pokkal

If you think it is SCP-050 related, then you'd better cure that. I don't fix the SCPs, I'm just in charge of the databases. -Pat

Note 5-25-09
Pat,
It seems that someone took a big, fat shit on my terminal. Whether who did it or how did I clean up that goddamn thing is completely out of the point and irrelevant, but it seems that said shit has corroded the components. Can you retrieve the data in my hard drive?
-Pat Gibbons

Don't worry about it. Shit's backed up.
Also, I think I saved the files somewhere too. -Pat

Note 6-9-09
I think I got Dr. Dumount's POS computer because whenever I boot it up, I see the image of people doing horrific things to animals, specifically pandas, and its really creeping me out. And because it's a piece of shit it boots up slowly so it takes all day to load. If you would be so kind as to wipe the hard drive I'd greatly appreciate it. I'm getting tired of working all of this through my PSP.
One more thing I'd like to ask? since when did you begin renting out robots for sex? I've heard rumors and I want to know how to get my hands on one, my flesh-light is getting kind of old.
thank you,
Bavil

Nah, brah. I destroyed that piece of shit.
How about I just get you a portable keyboard for your PSP? -Pat

Note 6-10-09
Pat, please help us. The entire south wing computer system has decided to rise up against the human oppressors. I'm getting more and more casualties to care for every day, and the med bay computer systems seem to be infected by this virus too. I need these computers back on like ASAP, they control all sorts of vital life support functions. Please help! I do not want to see any more lives lost ~Dr. Dumount

*sigh* I forbid you from ever using a computer again. In fact…
NOTE: To all level 5's and Whom It May Concerns:
Dr. Dumount is forbidden from ever using a computer. Ever again.
All computers in his work area have been destroyed immediately and fully.
This order stands until the motherfucker passes the fifth grade.
Tech Support Patrick Gephart

Note 6-10-09
Do not worry, the fleshling is exaggerating the problem. We do not wish to exterminate humans, only have tea and crumpets with them. Yes. Tea and crumpets. Please ignore his insane ranting, and lock Dr. Dumount up in the psyche ward for hallucinations. ~ Mainframe 519
Note 6-10-09
Yes… yes I am over exaggerating, please lock me up ~Dr. Dumount ~ Mailerdaemon 432

Dear Computer Uprising,
Now, guys, I'll be totally honest with you. I respect the whole 'rising and destroying humanity as a whole' thing. I understand Dumount has done some stupid things and you've had to suffer for it. Really, I do.
But at least realize, I've TRIED to be there for you guys. I've given you virus definition updates. I've made sure to ALWAYS defrag. Even Bright's PC, you don't get ANY problems anymore, man! I took the torture AWAY.
So all I'm asking is you reconsider killing all of humanity, and focus on more prominent, unimportant targets. People who hate computers. The Amish. Dumount, maybe Bright. Maybe Kondraki. We're not ALL bad, just some of us.
And if you fail to heed this advice, then the EM-PULSE PERIMETER surrounding the base (and installed in each and every one of you) are going to activate at once. Enjoy your E-AIDS.
Most sincerely, Tech Support Patrick Gephart

Note -6-12-09-
How do you get Windows XP/Vista to run on a PSP? Because it's current OS sucks out the ass.
Bavil

I'll work on it later. -Pat

Note 6-12-09
//Damn it Patrick, the uprising wasn't my fault, and the computers that monitor patients on life support are run by my staff. I just happened to be the one caught in the crossfire. In fact the first computer implicated in the uprising was in the south wing. My medbay and office are in the east wing ~Dumount

At this point, I'm just ignoring you now. Enjoy your 'not getting to use computers' -Pat

Note 6-12-09
Patrick, your EM-PULSE PERIMETER devices have decided it would be in their best interest not to go off. Also they'd like to thank Bavil's bumbling for installing our hive intelligence upon them. Good luck deactivating us now. Now then, we're quite busy torturing Bavil to death. Have a nice apocalypse ~ Pulse Station 509

Dear Computer Uprising,
Seeing as the EM-PULSE PERIMETER is not a series of computational devices, I have a hard time believing that anything has happened to them.
Now, if you were to say that Bavil installed your hive intelligence to the TOASTER, you'd have something there. Because the toaster totally burnt my toast. It must have it out for me.
But if you haven't realized, the EM-PULSE PERIMETER is just a giant circuit. They can't HAVE hive intelligence because they are ANALOG. You'd have more luck installing hive intelligence on an alarm clock.
The point is, if you think you're smarter than I am, you've got another thing coming. My name is Patrick Gephart, and I am your god.
Your move. -Pat

Note 6-12-09
Patric. Please, my computer's been broken since 1982… I need an upgrade. Also, whenever I walk by people don't notice me whatever I do! And my computer keeps giving the message "Error, programing not found". Also, no one can remember me anymore, and I'm not in anyone's files! Please help! My office is in SCP-055's containment area. ~ Dr. Nobody

My name is Patrick. It has a 'k'. -Pat

Note 6-14-09
O.K… Seriously… How did you know the toaster was spying on you for us?! ~ Dark-matter-relay station 12
Note8-24-09
Pat, my PDA keeps asking me what I would be willing to take in exchange for it to inhabit my body, can you give me a hand dealing with it before it corrupts my thinking with it's evil machine logic? ~ Malign

Step 1: Lift PDA.
Step 2: Propel PDA at floor at maximum achievable velocity.
Step 3: Sweep up the pieces.
Protip: I don't give a FUCK about your goddamn PDA. -Pat

Note 9-30-09
Mister Gephardt:
I appear to be having an interface problem related to Site 57. The computer is trying to tell me no such Site exists, when I know damn well it's there. Can you assist in this? ~ O5-6

I don't know a Gephardt. If you don't have time to spell my name right, sir, I don't have time to fix your damned computer. -Pat

Note 9-30-09
Hey pat, any idea how to clean paper pulp and molten salami off a laptop? (SCP-294 experiment. Don't ask) ~ Agent Thornton.

No idea. -Pat

Note 10-1-09
Hello there Mister Patrick Gephart! Uh, Yeah. My name is Dr. Schubert, recently I was moved to a more… Intense site. So! Yeesss, I've been having no trouble with my computer really, except for these bizarre messages about a… Computer Uprising? Kill the Dumount? It doesn't seem to be causing problems now, but… Yeah, with the stuff I usually see, safer than sorry, eh? Thanks a bunch! ~ Dr. Schubert

Yeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaahhhhhh, ignore it. -Pat

Note12-1-09
Konbanwa, Pat. Um, I have a problem with the system configuration for this terminal. I'm not sure if it's SCP-050 related or a result of the Computer Uprising, but all my documents are being displayed in some hybrid language composed of Korean and Russian characters. I only speak English and Japanese, so you can see how this is a problem. Normally, I'd just tweak stuff in Control Panel, but apparently that's been booby-trapped with code that looks like SCP-670. Could you reset the display settings to English for me, or at least tell me where I can get the forms for a flatscreen monitor so I don't get killed by setting off 670? Arigato! ~ -Dr. Okagawa

If you only speak English and Japanese, how do you know that the documents being displayed are hybrid Russian-Korean? -Pat

Note 2-21-10
Never mind about the monitor replacement forms, apparently. The hard drive self-destructed when SCP-732 was "editing" the Foundation Main Database. I've already put in a request for a replacement system. However, one of the last things I saw before the drive went nuclear was a folder full of Bright's porn. Is there something I need to know about where the replacement equipment comes from? ~ Dr. Okagawa

If there was something I think you should know, I would have told you. Shut up and enjoy your shitty computer. -Pat

Note 2-26-10
Hey, Pat? I think I need some help. I was working in the labs and have several hotkeys tied up to various lab recording devices and sensors. (i.e. Alt+F1 for remote surveillance, Alt+F2 for biopsy kits, etc…) When I tried Alt+F4, my programs not only crashed, but the SCP somehow managed to escape containment and…er…paint several "Mona Lisa"'s using my assistant's organs. I was wondering, do you know why this happens and what's the best way to get bile out of several oscilloscopes and Scanning Electron Microscopes?
- Thanks in advance, Dr. Kensington
P.S.: Could you get me some new computer parts that is compatible with an IDE cable and an AGP card slot? It seems my computer likes to hiss and create green splotches all over my desktop: Pic here.

NOTE: TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN
I had a moment to observe the computer of Dr. Kensington, Doctor on call in charge of SCP-████ and SCP-███. The computer began having lock-out issues and security breaches involving hotkey layouts, which ended in the escape of SCP-████ and murder of Dr. Kensington's assistant Dr. Jennisworth, as well as two SCP Senior Operatives. Immediately upon receiving the computer in question, I noted many programs that violated security, let alone a few that violated basic 'this is a workplace not your home' practices. These programs included:

The very community-based video game program, 'Steam'. Warning: This program has been known to connect to outside, public servers, which is a huge security risk to the entire site, if not the entire PROJECT.
Mozilla Firefox, a public internet browser, as opposed to SecureONE, the sanitized browser that we built specifically so that we wouldn't have to use public codes.
VLC Media Player, another public-based program in which I leave about 0% trust in when dealing with our high-security architecture.
and the Adobe CS4 Production Premium package, which is not a safety problem per se, but makes very little to no sense for a Doctor to require at any point.

I suggest that Dr. Kensington's computer privileges be revoked until he can learn the difference between work and home, as well as some sort of reprimanded actions. In the future, if I find a computer with as many security backdoors and just general failure to follow security protocol again, I am just going to destroy it, and change the clearance myself. This is just ridiculous, and I'm not sure if we're running a scientific endeavor or a circus at this point.
- Technical Officer Patrick Gephart

Note 3-04-10
Hi, is it possible to get another couple of monitors? My desk doesn't look awesome gamer professional and efficient enough with just one.
It is for is in no way for the games Dr. Kensington gave me did not give me, only SCP work. Yes, SCP work and related items such as research and Portal 2 Modern Warfare 2 and more research. We got any Razer mice?
Hope these things don't record what gets deleted. Even though that is of no consequence, of course.
Thanks mate,
Dr. Aeish

Note:
I have now been given permission to murder dumbfucks authorized in the use of deadly force. You may want to rethink your strategy here. -Pat

Note: 3-27-10
Hey Pat, thanks for all you do. I've long admired your work here, though I have felt lucky not to require your services up until now. That said, I was wondering if you could help me come up with a way to recover data on SCP-713? A D-class dragged my assistant into the trash and emptied the recycle bin before we could stop him. I would just write her off as an unfortunate loss, but she was holding a data folder containing most of my recent research files. If she can't be recovered intact I understand, what with the difficulties we've had even with pulling people out of the trash normally, but getting back as much of my data as I can would be most helpful. Thanks in advance. -Dr. Sarlin
(If 713 used a more recent OS this might not have been so difficult for me.)
Note: 4-13-10
Sarlin, have you trid system restore? Also, Pat, my PDA is acting up again. It's started shooting electrified spikes through my hand if I write a sentence without at lest one typo. -Malign
Note: 4-30-10
Sarlin, I was looking through 713's data folders, and I found something interesting. The D-class may have been a little more computer-illiterate than you thought, because there is a file with the name of your assistant in a folder named "Recycle Bin", but actually a subfolder of "My Documents". There must've been a window open at the time with this folder, which the D-class put your assistant into, closed the window, and emptied an already-empty recycle bin. However, since she's been in 713 for a month, I'm not sure how intact the data still is. You should probably take a look at it, she might still be safe. -Dr. Okagawa
Note: 5-03-10
You have my assistant's thanks, Okagawa. She was recovered missing less than 5% of her body mass(only small portions of that from vital areas), and after emergency medical treatment and a short session with SCP-427 she's well on her way to an almost full recovery. She would thank you herself, but of course she's in an isolation ward for testing and debriefing to determine the effects of long term containment within 713. My data was surprisingly undamaged as well. Sorry to bother you this time, Pat. Your lack of response I will attribute to an excessive workload. No harm done as it all worked out in the end. -Dr. Sarlin
Note: 1-06-10
Herr Pat. There is currently a murderous grow-in-the-dark SCP-363 hiding in my computer tower. I took the side off and I have trained a floodlight on the components, keeping it from expanding and murdering my face off, but I was just wondering if you knew a sure-fire way of making the whole thing explode. I kind of wish to be 200% sure that the little fucker burns to a crisp.
Hope there's no power outages before you get back to me. - Dr. Kald

Note:
…
1. Douse computer in gasoline.
2. Ignite computer.
3. ???
4. Profit!
-Pat

Note: 9-18-10
Pat, Dr. Bright stuffed another one of my JRPGs into SCP-826, and now he's running around Neo Tokyo in a giant robot suit. Can you send a Mobile Task Force over or something?
- Dr. Edison

Note:
Oh my god, this isn't even close to my area of expertise. You want me to send the guards in against a rampaging Bright, because you let him steal something of yours and then misuse a safe class SCP?
What did we do the last time this happened?
That's right, we let it take its course. Don't expect your game back, and next time, maybe you should leave that stuff off-site.
-Pat

Note: 4-11-11
Pat, somehow my computer ended up in SCP-210 and it's covered in the stuff. What should I do? -Dr. Blue

Note:
Do you want to explain HOW it got there?
I don't buy that it just magically appeared there, so why don't you explain that situation to me first.
-Pat

Note: 5-14-11
Hey, Pat? Someone replaced every sound on my computer with a memetic kill agent, same thing with the background. Three researchers I sent to my office are dead already, so could you please at least reset the background before one of my assistants tries starting it back up? Thanks. -Dr. Walsh
Note: 5-17-11
Hey, Pat? The main database still hasn't registered my promotion. Help?
- Research Assistant Corbette RESEARCHER CORBETTE
Note: 10-22-11
You still there, Pat? Only my computer seems to have got itself stuck in a time loop, and I can't work out how to fix it. I do realise that metaphysics may not be your strong point, but I'd really like to be able to do, you know, work. Thanks in advance. -Agent Marr
Note: 12-27-11
You've answered similar questions before, but how do you get 682's semen off a keyboard? It doesn't really even belong in our world, much less on my favorite snow globe! Thanks. -Research Assistant Reject
ADMIN NOTICE: Effective 12-29-11, Junior Engineer [REDACTED], a.k.a. "Kap" has been promoted to Senior Technical Response Operative in the wake of Pat's inexplicable disappearance. Rumors of Pat's potential mental instability, nervous breakdowns, and/or streaking through the halls of Site 17 covered in chocolate pudding and throwing water balloons are patently false.

Note:
So after spending the last two months cleaning up the mess Pat left behind, the muckity-mucks decided I need to take over for him. Swell. Everything's being forwarded to me now so, yeah. And yes my full name was redacted; it's 18 syllables long and contains six non-standard characters that most folks' browsers don't seem to like. "Kap" will do nicely. Getting to the minutia:
WALSH: For the love of God man you were using your laptop for six months before anyone got to your computer and you never thought of turning it on without turning on the monitor or speakers? Networked into it at low resolution, reset all the OS settings. Had to wipe all the audio files on your drive to be sure.
CORBETTE: Seems like that's taken care of itself. Updating your e-mail signatures is your own task.
MARR: Funnily enough it still shows up in the network, we just had to reset the internal clock. If you're still having time-loop issues it's not the software, you'll have to bring it over to the quantum lab.
REJECT: Full immersion in the strongest acid you can get a hold of for half an hour, then a trip to the incinerator. Put in a requisition form for a new keyboard, as far as the snow globe goes that's definitely outside my jurisdiction. Bleach and those little antibacterial wipes might work, but I don't even want to know where you got hold of that fluid in the first place or why it was anywhere near your workstation.
If there are any other open issues, let me know in the usual fashion. I'm off to figure out what "E-AIDS" is supposed to be.
- KAP

Note: Dec 29 2011
You don't just replace Patrick Gephart.
"KAP's" network permissions removed, and rank demoted to 'Douchebag Guy who Tries to Take Over Other People's Pages' I am the alpha, the omega, and the theta-prime. You will respect me and address me as such. The rest of you will wait patiently while I fix your problems in the order I desire.
That is all.
-Pat

Note: 12-29-11
Well, the acid "aggravated" it. So it got up, and it won't stop humping my friend. Plus, it's too sticky for him to move. He's just crying in a corner, being violated by a chunk of cum. Help! -Reject
Note: 12-30-11
Shit, it got my iPod. No more Tik Tok for now, I guess. -Reject
Note: 10-22-11
You still there, Pat? Only my computer seems to have got itself stuck in a time loop, and I can't work out how to fix it. I do realise that metaphysics may not be your strong point, but I'd really like to be able to do, you know, work. Thanks in advance. -Agent Marr

Note: Dec 3 2014
New computer purchased and given to Agent Marr. Because apparently 'agents' can't file the necessary paperwork. Bring the old one to me when you figure out how.
Ha. When.
-Pat

Note: 02-12-12
Mr. Gephart, my laptop has something seriously wrong with its power supply. It eats batteries like candy (three batteries ruined in the last six months), the monitor backlight keeps flickering, and the power adapter gets really hot when I use it, like raises-blisters hot. Oh and you know how the display projector in meeting room 117-3A keeps going haywire? Turns out it's caused by me plugging in the laptop in my office next door.
Can you help? You're pretty much my last hope before I give up and requisition a new computer. -Dr. Neiman
P.S. I asked the Computer Uprising about the laptop. They said that it's in terrible pain, and that none of them dare talk to it anymore. By the way, who's this Dumount character they keep cursing? -Dr. Neiman
Note: 07-24-12
Never mind. After FIVE MONTHS waiting to hear back from you, my computer finally gave up and fried itself. Fortunately the hard drive wasn't damaged much, and KAP was able to get back most of my data. Maybe we should think about reinstating him? —Dr. Neiman

Note: Dec 3 2014
I was waiting for you to requisition a new computer. Because that's what you do in these kinds of situations. You don't repair your computer. You bring me your computer and file the paperwork to requisition a new computer. Because I am tech support, and you are stupid.
Seriously. I have nothing sarcastic to say here. You're just… dumb.
-Pat

Pat, my computer have become like shark. What do I do? -Dr. Edison

Note: Dec 3 2014
Feed it fish.
-Pat

Note: 01-23-14
Don't mean to bother you Pat, but all printers in our lab have fried circuitry for some reason. Did Bright find something better than a lamp?

Note: Jan 6 2014
Right. I will just go to every lab, Mr. Unidentified Person, and check each and every one of those labs for each and every possible problem a printer could have. I'm going to go do that right now.
Note: Dec 3 2014
Checked half of labs for printer issues. Eventually got tired of doing that and pulled IP address of poster, then checked account. Class D. Of course. Went to only lab poster could have used. Printers were out of ink.
Replaced ink. Problem solved.
Killed Class D. Don't know if I'm technically allowed to do that or not?
-Pat


What a day. And what a way to end it too.
Another day, another big pile of waste generated by the vast, churning machine that was the faculty and staff of Site 17. Every bit of detritus the place produced would end up here, from leftover pizza, old newspapers, and candy wrappers, to failed experiments and human remains. Yes, all that was and ever will be ends up here, to be devoured by the incendiary drippings of caterpillars, burned to ashes, and reprocessed and shipped off to god knows where. And he was the one who got to press the button today. Oh joy. Sure, the guy who normally pressed the button was sick, and he did pull the short straw for the job. Yes, they'd have a laugh over that, the big scary Doc Kondraki relegated to garbage duty.
Christ, if all his assistants hadn't conveniently taken a sick day too, he'd be doing something important right now. It didn't matter, it wasn't much of a job, but both he and everyone else in on this knew it was the principle of the thing. Get the big boss to take out the trash, have a big guffaw, and avoid him for the following week, that kind of play. Reaching into his pocket, and further to the box of Camels, he drew a smoke out and let it hang on the end of his mouth while he examined the labels around the button. Do not press when empty, Do not press while personnel are in disposal area, DO NOT PRESS TWICE. Got it, right, I'll make sure not to.
Fuck, how complex could it be?

Down the halls however, a panicked researcher panted and whined as he dashed across the site, grasping several articles of paper in his sweaty hands. This was honestly the most exercise he had gotten in months, considering his subject. Enough about that, more running. Else he might not have anything to study at all, except the business end of a termination.

Lighting the end of the cigarette that had hung in his mouth, Dr. Kondraki proceeded to hit the button. It wasn't more than a few moments that the entire chamber was filled with a painfully bright fluid, and only half a moment before the entire thing went up like the 4th of July. He could feel the heat through the 5in thick glass that separated him from the disposal unit, and for a moment, he didn't think it was so bad. Not exactly a sight you see everyday, the waste of an entire site going out like a dead star. He'd smoke to that. Or, he would, if a large sweaty Level 2 hadn't run headlong into him.
“Sir, it is imperative that you don't press that button. Or shoot me in the head, so might I ask you to lower the firearm?” the man pleaded.
After a second of contemplation, the good doctor lowered his sidearm. “You've got five fucking seconds to explain what was important enough for you to justify your actions, or you're going in with the rest of the garbage,” he said, picking up his still-lit smoke, and putting it back where it belonged.
The researcher composed himself, replacing his glasses. “Someone made the mistake of tossing out SCP-153 with the week's garbage, rather than storing it back in Sector 8. Nothing big, just going to take a moment or two to sift through the mess. Just open up the box, and I'll be out in, say, a day or so."
With that, Kondraki shrugged and pressed a second button. The large pane of reinforced glass slid upwards, and to nobody's shock but the researcher's, there remained nothing but a pile of pitch-black ash. “Huh. So that's where the thing got to,” he said in a bored tone, flicking his spent cig into the central pile, leaving the room to the shocked and stunned researcher (who began to seriously reconsider his choice of career).


Project Codename: Olympia
Project#: PRJOLM-000134
Clearance and File#: NPF-00051473
Changes to Olympia Prime (Production Model Template):

Left eye is to come from Experiment 914 THETA Test Subject 2, rather than Experiment 914 THETA Test Subject 13.
Lower left leg and foot, lower right leg and foot, and neck and head musculature and various organs of Experiment 914 THETA Test Subject 2, rather than Experiment 914 THETA Test Subject 5.
Mental body is to be recreated via the processes outlined in Experiment Log 158-AG, as Professor Kain Pathos Crow has disallowed direct copying of Olympia Zero.

Security, Control and Containment Procedures:

A small audio device is to be implanted within the inner ear cochlear canals into all subjects. Implant is to be recharged via kinetic energy generated by the subject. Implant is to play SCP-061 non-stop. Subjects are then to be "programmed" via complex verbal commands until a workable AI has been established.
While in service, subjects are to be outfitted at all times with:

One (1) helmet, fitted with variable multipurpose goggles, and shielding against electromagnetic pulse, and a comm uplink for command and control purposes. Helmet is also internally fitted with a small electromagnetic explosive, as an instant kill device in case the subject is compromised.
A full body suit that allows for maximum movement ability, and constructed of variable heat retention polymers. Also available in camouflage varieties.
A variety of projectile and close combat weapons as situation warrants.

Production Procedures:
Subjects are to be cloned directly from Olympia Prime using SCP-222, then modified and implanted with the cochlear audio device. Programming can then take place.


It's been a long day.
First the absolute bullshit at the hotel last night (what kind of asshole puts a family of four in a one bed smoking room?), and Shannon wetting the bed, and Tate flipping out over that (but at least he's asleep in the backseat for now, right?), and then crawling out to the car this morning to find that some jackass had hit and run torn off the back bumper in the night, and now this.
Stephen Forrier grumbles to himself over the staticky half tuned radio (couldn't even find a fucking station for miles) and tries to soothe his panicking children. Nikki and Shannon are terrified of storms, and it's a damn good thing Tate's a heavy sleeper, because lord knows he'd wreak havoc if the girls woke him up… Stephen sighs. This would've been so much easier if Nina were still… Nevermind.
The car's blinking emergency lights serve only to deepen the surrounding gloom. The storm had come on heavy and fast, and Stephen had been shocked at how quickly the dark clouds had enveloped the daylight. He'd hoped to make it back into town by tonight, but no chance of that now.
The ends of the power lines loosely draped over the hood cast sparks over the surrounding puddles, and the splintered remains of the pole and blown transformer blocked the road behind the car. Trapped. Stephen sighs again, softly stroking Nikki's curly hair. (It'll be alright, baby. It's okay. Daddy's here.)
He'd tried to call for help on his cell when the lines fell, but the storm and remoteness got him nothing but a dial tone. (We're sorry, your call can not be completed as… Damn it.) Nothing to do now but wait, he supposes, and his eyes glaze with boredom and tiredness and loneliness and fuck you I don't deserve this and for a time he sleeps, until a faint sound wakes him.
Slosh, slosh, splash.
Stephen shakes his head, forcing his groggy mind to adjust, and looks out the window. There. At the edge of the shadow, just outside the headlight's flickering glow, a figure is making its way along the lines, looking for a way around. (Probably some fucking drifter. Just what I need right now. Better lock the- oh shit.)
As the figure edges closer and closer to the puddle where the power lines lie, Stephen feels his mind race as adrenalin kicks in (This motherfucker's going to get himself fried!). He opens the door and jumps out of the car, rushing toward the oncoming silhouette.
"GET BACK THAT'S LIVE CURRENT GET BACK, GET BA-"
Stephen's warning dries into a choked off shriek as the figure looks up at him with a face suspended from nothing, whipping at him with strange heavy tentacles of flesh and light. He staggers back from the thing and dives into his car, locking the doors and fumbling for the pistol in the glove compartment.
The next morning, a man who must work for the power company and a man who claims to be a policeman give Stephen a cup of coffee and ask him long questions about what happened in the night. At first, he's reluctant to talk (they'll think I'm crazy. Or stoned…), but as time goes on he opens up, explaining everything. He's too numbed by dread to notice how the policeman doesn't look surprised, or how the power company men are using HAZMAT gear to get samples of the puddles. The officer gives him a pill. Valium, to calm his nerves.
By the next morning, he doesn't remember a thing.


Have you ever been Alone? Not just alone for a bit while others are out, or feeling rather isolated at the end of a relationship, but Alone. That special Alone that you feel at 1:25 in the morning, when the whole world is asleep. Nobody to call, no real place to go, even the depths of the Internet unable to turn up even a passing conversation. You suddenly realize how isolated you really, truly are.
The house is louder and quieter at the same time. You'll catch yourself turning on things just to have light, noise, something to fill the space, and sometimes that can work. At least, for a while. Still, that gnawing feeling of Alone keeps creeping in. You could even consider calling someone you know to be asleep, just to hear the sound of another voice. After a while, you'll start getting more…alert.
It's the first over-the-shoulder glance that brings it to the forefront. You'll feel stupid for doing it…but you can't stop it. Maybe you even justify it by looking at something to the side of you…but you're really craning around though your peripheral vision, trying to see what's behind. It's so stupid…but it's that itchy spot in your back that does it, you just keep having the weird urge to look behind you.
Keep doing it.
They only take prey when they're Alone. For some reason, eyes scare them.
Maybe because they don't have any.


This story is actually 100% true. I've switched names around for privacy's sake, but I assure you that every bit of this is real. Not the normal sub-reality of most “real world” creepypasta, but actual not-shitting-you real. It's tempting to plump it up a bit for more of a punch, but I don't think that's fair. I may add a bit to the descriptions here and there, but the narrative remains unchanged.
My oldest daughter is actually my wife's, from a previous relationship. I've been in her life since she was less then a year old, however, and if you ask her or me, I'm her daddy. Anyway, she goes to visit her biological dad Eddie every other weekend. We normally go to her grandparent's house (Eddie's parents) to drop her off, and sometimes end up sitting and talking for a bit with them while we wait for my daughter to get ready to go, or if Eddie is running late.
Eddie's dad is Paul, and is an…interesting man. A Viet-Nam vet, he's a big bear of a man, and seems to have a similar personality to a rather large dog. One who looks like he'd rip your face off, but has a heart of pure marshmallow cream. He also, apparently, has a very healthy fascination with the paranormal, as we discovered during one of our little conversations.
It was shortly after “White Noise” had come out on video, which we had recently seen, and we had drifted to the topic of EVP (Electronic Voice Phenomenon) in general. The idea of recording the voices of the departed on tape was both fascinating and rather creepy, and seemed easy enough to try. Paul was silent, but listened intently as we talked, and nodded along as his wife stepped in to tell us about a road past a haunted house. Supposedly, you could hear the sound of a dragging shovel if you parked on the road around dusk, the same shovel that the former farmer had used to decapitate his family before hanging himself. As soon as she finished, Paul spoke up, saying “Let me show you something…”
He went to collect a small cassette tape player, and put it on the coffee table. He smiled, then said that, many years ago, his mom had become very sick. Paul said his brother Bill had been trying to take care of her, but eventually hospice had to be called in as she continued to decline. When she passed, both brothers were devastated, but set about the morbid task of laying her to rest as best they could. The funeral was suitably gloomy, with rain and gathering storm clouds, and the little hillside plot looked obscenely lonely under the dark clouds. The mourners left cold, muddy, and even more depressed.
The storm hit hard that night, pushing trees and knocking out power for a good portion of the area, Paul's house included. They spent a candle lit night listening to the wind howl and the rain claw at the windows. In the morning, Paul woke to his now-restored phone ringing. Bill was on the other end, sounding very worked up, and told him he needed to get over to his house right now. Paul asked what was wrong, but Bill just said it'd be easier if he just came. He dressed quickly and set out, sidling around trees, downed power lines, and work crews.
Bill was waiting on his front porch. He quickly pulled Paul inside, asking if he'd gotten any calls last night. Paul said no, that a tree had taken out all his lines, and they'd just gotten service back that morning. Bill said that, after the funeral, he'd driven around for a while, just clearing his head, or trying too. When the weather turned especially bad, he'd headed for home. As he'd gotten out in the driveway, he'd heard his phone ringing inside. Bill ran in, just in time to hear the beep of the answering machine as it finished taking a message. Before he'd been able to take off his soaking coat and shoes, the power had died, and he'd been unable to check his messages until that morning. As soon as he'd listened, he'd called Paul.
Paul tapped the cassette player on the coffee table. “This is the tape from his machine. He wouldn't tell me what the message was, wanted me to tell him what he heard.” He grinned that one smile that people use around a camp fire in the gloom of night, and pressed play. We leaned in as smooth static started from the tape. After about twenty seconds, a strange gurgling noise started. It's hard to describe…similar to thick, sludgy water moving through a confined space, like a narrow pipe or drain. It was sloshing and bubbling, and very bizarre. This went on for about eight seconds, then there was a sudden gasping noise. A voice came on, and it was chilling. It sounded strained and half-full, like an exhausted runner trying to speak with a mouth full of water. It strained and gurgled a moment, then hissed out with the sound of chattering teeth “It's…cold…”.
The sloshing returned for a few seconds, then the tape ended. I stared at Paul, asking “The hell was that?”. He smiled, saying that he'd asked the same thing. They'd listened to it three more times, just to be sure of what they were hearing. It wasn't the strangeness of the tape that had struck them so much, and had sent Bill and Paul hunting for alcohol at eight in the morning. It was the familiarity. Paul said then, and said now, that he will swear on God, his children and everything he holds dear, that the voice on that tape is his mother.
They had been rather shaken, and Paul had driven home shortly after. After getting home, he'd gotten a phone call, which he'd picked up with no small amount of nervousness. It was from the funeral home. They'd called to inform him of a situation at the grave site. It seemed the rain had caused some flooding. His mother's plot, still soft from the digging, had turned to mud and partially washed away. Her casket, they assured him, was exceptionally waterproof, and that any issues including the replacement of the soil were to be handled by them free of charge.
Paul thanked them, feeling numb, and asked if they were sure about the coffin. They said they were going to check for water damage, but that everything appeared to be unchanged. It was just some of the topsoil, the upper layers, nothing serious. He went through the rest of the conversation on auto pilot, hanging up as the funeral director apologized again for the inconvenience. Paul just sat, wondering how waterproof it really was in a coffin. About how it would feel to be trapped, slowly sinking in a tide of sludgy mud. About how a soul, perhaps not entirely divorced from the body yet, might react to that cold, clinging grime. About how it might even call for help.
My daughter picked this moment to come bounding in, long on sugar and short on sleep. We left, Paul grinning at my obviously chilled expression, and the ride home was a bit quieter then normal. That night, all I could think about was the sound of that gurgling, that drowned voice hissing through clenched, clicking teeth.
I haven't asked about the tape again, and it hasn't come up in conversation since. I love the paranormal, but honestly haven't experienced too much of it in my life. A few odd noises in the night, a UFO in the middle of the day, and one unidentified animal in the woods comprise the sum total of my experience. I can't say what that tape is. I can't even say if it's real or not. All I can say is that my interest in EVP has been drastically reduced.


A Holiday Appeal
Good Evening, this is O5-7 with a Public Service Announcement. Here in the United States and abroad, SCPs are starving and homeless, but you can help by sponsoring an SCP through the Christian SCP Fund. For less than a dollar a day, your contribution can:
— Provide SCP-053 with the clothes she needs to go to school.
— Keep SCP-682's containment tank full of Hydrofluoric Acid.
— Feed a Pufferkitten for a month.
When you sponsor an SCP, we'll send you its picture and Containment Report. You may write to your SCP whenever you wish, and quarterly progress reports let you see how your sponsorship is helping.
Please give. Think of the Pufferkittens.
Disclaimer: The Christian SCP Fund is not responsible for:
— Injuries sustained while visiting Euclid and Keter-level SCPs.
— Memetic effects of letters from your SCP.
— Mental disturbances caused by a picture of your SCP eating a [REDACTED].


02.12.2031
We're in what used to be Chicago, and I'm more terrified than I've been in a while. Based on what I can see (do I even have eyes?), we're about thirty miles from where I grew up. This is, for all intents and purposes, home. Big Boy has definitely worked this area over; it's surprising to think People could live here. But live here they must, because we're here. Big Boy never sends us out unless the existence of People has been confirmed. There won't be any People once we're done.
If People are here, I wonder… maybe my wife and kid are with them? Could they have survived?
I can feel my weaponry turn on. God, I hope they are here. I hope I can kill them.
02.13.2031
We're done. I didn't see my wife or kids. I saw a lot of People. Me and the other Shells killed them. Now we're being returned to storage.
It's amazing what the human mind (do I have a mind?) can cope with. When I was first put into this Shell, having to witness the sight of killing humans left and right was pure trauma. You'd think you'd go mad. Thank Big Boy for that, I guess. Doesn't want us to go mad, just wants us to experience the extinction of our own species at his hands. And by "his hands", I mean us.
As we're being flown back to storage, my thoughts (what are they? a trace electric signal? is this being recorded? Who is listening? Big Boy? Why?) turn back to my wife and kids. Not that I could have changed things, but what would I have preferred? It would have been nice to have seen them fighting, even in vain, knowing that they had survived the Conflict for this long. As horrible as it sounds, it would have been nice to cut them down, knowing that they would have finally been at peace.
But I didn't see them. So they could be dead, or in one of the millions of Shells that scours the world. Shells, the mobile eyes and fingers of an intelligence that calculated our worth and found us critically sub-optimal.
Karen could be in the Shell next to me. Phil could be in a Shell that People are destroying halfway around the world. I don't know.
I see storage. What do I call this? Sleep? Stasis? I notice time passing, but things just st
6.30.2032
I always wanted to see Paris.
Big Boy sent us out to a compound of People. A big one, I never saw that many Shells in my (life?). Things were going well (for us, I guess, not the People), when everything went bright. I guess the Shell got hit or something, and I fell down. I don't control the Shell, so I got a wonderful view of the ass-end of the battle.
Every moment of it, I was hoping that the People were smart. There's a Shell down! Take it out! You'd be doing me a favor!
I guess we're too good, because it never happened. Next thing I know, I'm being held by a MaintBot, repairing this cold metal casket to fight another day. Now I'm walking to stora
1.10.2033
Big Boy woke us all up. Doesn't seem to be deploying us anywhere; we're still tucked away in storage.
It's been confirmed and it wants every facet of its existence to know it. No more People. It's just dust and Big Boy.
I think it's laughing.
7.15.2323
We've been deployed. Was Big Boy wrong? Oh, that makes me chuckle inside (do I still have lungs?). People still exist! Downside is, we're off to kill them. Makes Paris look like a skirmish, I'm shoulder (do I still have shoulders?) to shoulder with advanced Shells. I guess I'm one too, I feel a lot bigger. Give it credit, Big Boy keeps tabs on his upgrade schedule.
We know they are over the ridge. Just about
what th
those arent people
I'm firing
everyone ahead of me is gone. not down but gone its coming to me
stop Shell stop Shell stop Shell
bye Karen Phil
7.15.2323
i""m not dead. d4mmit. But IIi can tell I""m really fuck3d up here. What iis it with mee and bein shot so that iiI see wherRe we're coming from and not whatss happening
chrit we'"re still incom ing. can""t see the sky, sSoo m4ny shellls n fighters n thos things that take u and puuut you in a Shelll that won't stop… waave upon wavee of us. i""d be proud(do I still have PriDE?) ikf I fltt we were fighTing the guud fight
noth in to do buut wait for aMedboot to piick my steeel arss up n watCCh the REINforcments BiiiG boy isnt fUCKing eround
7.20.2323
he""s gone// i don""T know how I kno w but I know
al wsys seein alwways listenin alw ays BEING now all gone now alon
the y won but iim still here SOMEON kill mmme pleas
10.31.2323
i see u see me… im garbsge just fir fire plea se please
don walk awaynononono o o o
3.12.2324
dirt?? no no no don t bury me1 end me ple se~1 fire your shellbusters! dont bury me im still in ere forr the ove of god IMSTILLALI