“Dance Failed!” The young woman laughs as her date tries to
catch his breath. The dancing rhythm game was much harder than
he anticipated, and he can’t help but also laugh at his abysmal score. He takes her hand and the two continue walking
through the arcade. It’s not crowded at all tonight and the
two have their choice of games as they bounce between the many pinball tables, driving games,
and light gun shooters. As they finish up a game of air hockey, her
date notices something. It’s a door in the back of the arcade that’s
slightly ajar, the latch and a lock that should be keeping it closed hanging open. “I wonder what’s in there?” he asks. Broken games? Maybe ones that let you play without putting
in a token. Or keep spitting out tickets even when you
lose? “Come on!” The two slip through the cracked door and
find themselves in a dark room that doesn’t look like anyone has been inside in a while. There’s cobwebs and dust everywhere, but
her date was right, it really is filled with broken games! He motions for her to follow as he checks
out an old pinball machine. He presses the buttons but it remains dark. He gives it a hard slap and… nothing happens. How disappointing, they really are just busted
old machines. The two turn to leave, they might get kicked
out if anyone finds them messing around in here. They’re back at the door when they both
stop and look at each other. Did they hear something behind them? The young woman shrieks with fear at the sight
of the old woman staring at her. This time it’s her date’s turn to laugh
at her. It’s just an old fortune teller, nothing
to be scared of. They must have accidentally turned it on. She didn’t notice it before, but the machine
which has the words “Grandmother Predictions” written across the top has come to life and
the inside is now lit up to reveal the animatronic head and torso of an old woman. The old woman isn’t moving, but her glassy,
dead eyes seem like they are staring right at the young woman. The two look at eachother, unsure of what
to do, when without warning, the old woman comes to life. With the clicking and whirring of gears, the
old woman appears to breathe in deeply, opening and closing her mouth as she leans slightly
forward and back inside her glass container. The young woman steps towards the fortune
teller as the old woman inside keeps breathing in and out. But then suddenly, the old woman stops. There’s another loud click as a card appears
out of a small slot on the front of the machine. She looks down at the card, then looks back
up to see that the Old Woman is staring at her once again, as if the robotic figure can
really, truly see her. The young woman slowly reaches towards the
card as the old woman’s gaze stays locked on her. Her fingers touch the card and at the exact
moment she pulls it free, the fortune teller’s lights go out and the old woman slumps over. “What was that?” her date asks. She didn’t even notice that he is standing
next to her now. He starts to search around the machine looking
for something that may have triggered it, as the young woman looks down at the card
she pulled from the slot. Her face changes as she reads it as she goes
from a little freaked out, to completely terrified. “Hey, look at this” her date says as she
quickly slips the card into her pocket. Her date reaches behind the back of the machine
and pulls out a short piece of cord, one end attached to the fortune teller, the other
frayed as if it has been cut. “It’s not even plugged in.” “Let’s get out of here” she tells him. She doesn’t need to ask him twice and the
two leave the room, emerging back into the lights and sounds of the arcade. Later that night, the two are at the door
to the young woman’s apartment. He asks if she’s sure she’s okay, she’s
not still scared about that broken machine, is she? It’s probably just battery operated and
they switched it on somehow. The young woman agrees that must be it, and
that she’s fine, just tired. She gives him a kiss on the cheek and bids
him goodnight before going into her apartment and closing the door. Inside, the young woman leans against the
door. She takes something out of her pocket and
stares at it. It’s the fortune that was dispensed from
the machine. It reads: You look like you've made some mistakes. Some things are unforgivable, aren't they? “No way” she thinks to herself. “It’s just a coincidence.” The young woman walks further into her apartment
and picks up a framed photo. It’s a picture of her several years younger,
with another girl who looks just like her. Her sister. She thinks back to that night. The night that she’ll never forget no matter
how hard she tries. The night she lost her, and lost part of herself
too. She sets the picture back down on the table
before looking at the fortune she’s still holding in her other hand. She crumples the paper in her fist and drops
it in the trash before heading to bed. It’s late at night and the young woman is
tossing and turning with bad dreams when she suddenly pops up awake. Did she hear a sound? She looks around her dim room but nothing
looks amiss. There it is again though, a noise… is it
coming from… the closet? She gets up out of bed and walks towards the
closet, one slow step after another. She reaches towards the closet door, but the
moment her fingers touch the knob, the door bursts open. She screams and falls backwards as multiple
arms reach out of the darkness in the closet towards her. She screams and kicks at the arms as they
grab at her, trying to pull her inside. She fights with all her might as she tries
to crawl away from the arms. She manages to escape their grasp and stands
up. She runs out of the room and towards the front
door as the arms follow, reaching out of the closet, growing longer and longer, the sickening
sound of bones twisting and snapping as they form new joints to bend around corners. Her hands reach out for the knob and she grabs
it, just as the arms grab onto her. She’s jerked backwards and falls to the
floor as the arms drag her down the hallway. She tries to resist, her fingernails digging
into the floorboards as the arms pull her back into the bedroom. “Hello? Are you awake?” The woman knocks loudly on the front door. “Come on, we have reservations. You have to get up” The woman knocks again but still no response. She checks her watch and with a sigh, takes
out a set of keys. She finds the one she’s looking for and
unlocks the door. “Everyone is waiting for us and I’m going
to tell them we’re late because of - “ The woman gasps as she opens the door. She can’t believe what she’s seeing. The apartment is a mess. It looks like a bomb went off. She looks around but there’s no sign of
her daughter. Then she notices the bloody claw marks leading
down the hall towards the bedroom. She runs down the hall, stops in the doorway
to the bedroom, and screams. If you’ve ever been to an arcade, a midway,
or a boardwalk, then you may have encountered a fortune telling machine. These small booths containing an automaton
are great fun as you receive a random card that purports to tell you your future or reveal
a secret truth about yourself. There’s nothing to it obviously, it’s
just a random card you’re getting after all, but the SCP Foundation has a fortune
telling machine in its possession that’s both very real, and very dangerous. SCP-517 as it is known to the Foundation,
is a two meter tall, glass and wooden fortune telling machine that contains an mechanical,
animatronic facsimile of an elderly woman wearing a white blouse and a blue shawl. On top of the machine is a panel with the
words “Grandmother Predictions” written on it. Once per hour, the machine will power on if
an individual enters what could be considered the elderly woman’s field of vision. She will turn to directly face the person,
seeming to stare right at them, before dispensing a fortune card from a slot on the front of
the machine, after which it will appear to shut down and cease to function. It is unknown just how the machine becomes
active, seeing as the only cord coming out of the back of the machine appears to have
been severed. The “fortunes” dispensed when the machine
comes to life are less a prediction, and more of a veiled threat, and examples of ones received
have included: “Your mother raised you better than that. I'm sorry, but fair is fair.” “Some people don't know how to be kind. You'll know soon enough, won't you?” and “People who do terrible things deserve terrible
things. You've brought this upon yourself, my dear.” Following an activation of SCP-517, starting
at 1:43 AM local time, the same events will always occur. The individual that was targeted by the machine
will find themselves attacked by a number of entities which have been designated as
SCP-517-01. These entities are long, multi-jointed arms
that emanate from a location nearby the individual. The exact number that appears will vary, but
there usually seems to be between ten and thirty-six. The arms will appear from a single location
that’s often a low, cramped, and dark space like a closet, basement, or under a bed. The arms will reach out from this area and
try to grab the individual before dragging them back to the location where they manifested. They appear to be able to stretch indefinitely,
growing as long as they need in order to continue pursuing the individual, and their many joints
allow them to bend around corners or any other obstacles. Should the individual manage to fight the
arms off or escape, new arms will materialize nearby the victim to aid in the capture. Once the arms have subdued the targeted person
and gotten them back to the area where they appeared they will begin savagely assaulting
them, beating and clawing at them until nothing remains of the victim but a bloody pile of
flesh and bones. To date, the Foundation is not aware of any
targeted individuals surviving an attack by SCP-517-01 entities. In the event that the fortune telling machine
was activated multiple times on the same day, multiple instances of arms appearing will
occur at different locations at the same time, with each group hunting their own individual
target. Efforts have been made to figure out exactly
where the arms manifest from, and during testing cameras were set up around the targeted individual
in order to try and locate a place of origin. Unfortunately the arms somehow seemed aware
that they were being watched, and the arms always emanated from around a corner or other
place that was out of the field of view of the cameras. Tests on SCP-517 did reveal one piece of evidence
though, as fragments of DNA were recovered from the areas where SCP-517-01 instances
appeared, DNA that turned out to be human in origin. The origins of the DNA and the identity of
the owner have yet to be determined. Research and containment of SCP-517 has proven
to be quite difficult, as evidenced by an event designated Incident 517-1997-M. As Foundation
agent Dr. Meil supervised the transport of SCP-517 to a new containment storage locker,
the fortune teller suddenly activated and it was suspected that Dr. Meil had become
a target. Security personnel were alerted and a defensive
strategy was devised to protect her from instances of SCP-517-01 that were expected to manifest
that night at 1:43 AM. Dr. Meil was taken to a helicopter on the
roof of a Foundation cafeteria and given the protection of multiple security personnel
as they waited for the arms to manifest. Right on cue, the arms appeared in a storage
area inside the cafeteria and began stretching their way towards the roof. Security teams inside the cafeteria opened
fire on the arms, which took damage just like normal human arms, though they would quickly
be replaced by more. More instances of SCP-517-01 began appearing,
coming out from under parked vehicles and other storage areas, as the number of arms
coming out of the original manifestation site continued to increase until there were over
a hundred. The arms did not seem to want to fight back
against the security teams though. They seemed singular in their focus - get
to the roof where Dr. Meil was waiting. As the ever-increasing amount of limbs overwhelmed
the security teams and breached the roof, the order was given for the helicopter to
take off. The helicopter rose into the air, but the
arms began manifesting from somewhere underneath the helicopter itself. The arms broke through the windows and pulled
Dr. Meil out, passing her down to the waiting arms on the roof that then carried her through
the cafeteria’s ventilation system. A security personnel in the cafeteria attempted
to sever the limbs with a knife and rescue Dr. Meil, but the arms were no longer ignoring
their attackers and grabbed him as well, dragging him down towards the storage locker along
with the doctor. In the end, four members of the security team
along with Dr. Meil were pulled into the storage area by the arms. Their remains were collected the next morning
and the Foundation made their best efforts to separate and identify what was left for
individual funerary services. SCP-517, which has been classified as safe,
is kept in a dedicated containment cell at all times, facing away from the doorway, with
an opaque black sheet bound around it. Following the events of Incident 517-1997-M,
all testing has been halted, without the express written permission of the Site Director. Peering into our future can be a fun activity,
even when we know it’s all just a bit of make believe. When you pull your fortune from a booth containing
an elderly automaton though, you might just find that this time, Grammie Knows your fate
for real. Now go and watch another entry from the files
of Dr. Bob, like SCP-3998 The Wicker Witch Lives, for another anomaly that’s much more
than first meets the eye. And make sure you subscribe and turn on notifications,
so you don’t miss a single anomaly, as we delve further and further into the SCP Foundation’s
classified archives.
