You and your friends exit a club and step
on to the darkened city street. Everyone is in a happy and joyful mood, it’s
been a great night, one that you’ll be reminiscing about with your friends for years. As you walk and laugh together, you don’t
notice the large man standing in front of you and almost run straight into him. You offer a quick apology and move to go around
the man, but he steps in front of you, blocking your path. All of your friends grow quiet, and you finally
take a good look at the man. The man towers over you. He is huge, with giant elaborate tattoos wrapped
around his bulging muscles, that it looks like he may have gotten to cover up the numerous
white patches of skin that are missing pigmentation. His face though, is bright red, and filled
with rage. The man begins screaming at you, asking why
you ran into him and calling you horrible names. Again you try to apologize but the man just
keeps yelling as if he can’t even hear you. He pushes you hard in the chest and you fall
back into one of your friends. Another steps forward in an attempt to diffuse
the situation, but the man punches him in the face, breaking his jaw. A melee ensues, though it could more accurately
be described as a massacre. The man has gone ballistic, and punches, kicks,
and bites your entire group of friends. His strength seems unreal, even for someone
as big and muscular as him. A large bouncer runs over in an attempt to
break up the fight, but even he is no match for this tattooed giant. You’ve been on the ground since he shoved
you, watching this insanity play out, but now with everyone else lying on the ground
bloodied and bruised, he turns his attention back on you. You try to scramble back to your feet but
he’s upon you in an instant. He picks you up over his head, and tosses
you into some trash cans, knocking you unconscious. You open your eyes to see the man standing
over you. You can feel the blood from numerous cuts
on your face running down into your eyes and mouth. The man picks you up with one hand and holds
you by the throat against the wall. He’s still in a rage, breathing hard through
clenched teeth, bits of white foaming in the corners of his mouth as he brings up his other
hand and curls his fingers into a fist. All you can think is “is this it? But then you notice something. The tattoo that snakes down the man’s arm
all the way to his hand… is moving. The long, serpentine dragon is writhing and
slithering as if it’s alive. Is this really happening? Or just a result of the concussive trauma
you’ve received? There’s no time to consider it further though,
as the man pulls back and throws a punch right into your face. You can feel your nose flatten and break from
the impact, which understandably distracts you from the bizarre occurrence that follows. Right as the man’s bloodied fist makes contact
with your face, the dragon on his arm seems to “swim” off of his skin and onto yours. Like a snake moving through water, it glides
off his fist onto your face before sliding down your neck onto your body. There is a searing pain as it moves, like
you’re being poked with needles over and over. You scream from the pain, blood from your
broken nose pouring out of your mouth. The man drops you to the ground and steps
back. He no longer looks to be in a rage and instead
looks confused. He looks down at his skin to find that the
tattoo… is completely gone. A look of unbridled joy comes over his face
and he turns and runs away into the night, laughing with glee as he does so. You are left whimpering in pain, curled up
in a ball in the pile of trash where he left you, the dragon tattoo now covering your entire
body. As you have probably already guessed, this
is no normal tattoo. No, this is an anomalous creature that is
known to the SCP Foundation as SCP-021, but it also has another name… The Skin Worm. SCP-021 is an obligate parasite that uses
the human body as a host. Its visual appearance is in the form of a
large, elaborate tattoo of an oriental style dragon, which covers roughly one square meter
of its host’s skin. What makes this tattoo truly unique, is that
it is fully animated, and moves on the host's body just as a real animal would, though in
2-D like a cartoon playing out in real time on their skin. The movement of the tattoo causes horrendous
pain for the host, and has been described as feeling like thousands of tiny needles
are stabbing at them all at once, as if a fresh image is being constantly tattooed on
their skin, while at the same time, a tattoo removal process is happening. While the tattoo organism is able to move,
it seems to prefer spending most of its time on its host’s torso, though it has been
seen to move around to other parts of the body on occasion. As SCP-021 moves around on the surface of
its host’s body, it appears to feed on the pigments in the skin. It’s favored meal seems to be other tattoos,
which it will seek out and devour, though if none are present or if it has eaten all
of the tattoos on its host, it will begin consuming the melanin from the skin instead. Melanin is a naturally occurring pigment found
in human’s skin, and after SCP-021 sucks it from its host, it will leave them with
permanent skin damage and patches of unpigmented skin that appear similar to that of skin condition
vitiligo. The feeding itself does not appear to cause
the host any pain, and the pigments, whether they are from another tattoo or the natural
ones in the skin, will simply disappear as 021 “eats” them. The pace at which SCP-021 feeds will vary,
but it has been observed as being able to clear over half a square meter of skin in
roughly one hour. One way to prevent SCP-021 from eating all
of the melanin present on a human is to quickly add new tattoos of fruits or small animals,
as a way to continually distract it from turning to the melanin. Thus far, outside of motion, the organism
has displayed no elevated intelligence or the ability to communicate. It simply moves… and feeds. SCP-021 is not permanently affixed to the
skin of any one host, and in fact can be transferred back and forth between hosts multiple times. The only way to transfer the organism is through
physical contact, though skin to skin contact does not guarantee that the organism will
take to a new host. In the event that it does, the dragon tattoo
appears to “swim” across the touching skin and will affix itself to the new human
host. Skin to skin contact in the… erm… romantic
sense, has been shown to be the most reliable method of transfer from one host to another,
with a 93 percent rate of successful transmission. However, as you can imagine, the tattooing
sensation that comes along with any movement of SCP-021 means that this particular transfer
is extremely painful for all parties involved, and the Foundation has deemed that despite
its high success rate, it should only be used when absolutely necessary. Contact between two open wounds has been shown
to be an only slightly less effective method, and has become the default means transferring
when the SCP Foundation wants to move SCP-021 from one host to another. Transferring the organism from a deceased
host to a living one is possible, though more complicated. SCP-021 appears not to mind when its host
organism is no longer alive, continuing to feed on whatever pigments are available to
it, and does not seem to suffer any ill effect from the condition of its host. It is as yet unknown whether SCP-021 could
be transferred to another species. So far, the organism has only been willing
to move from human to human, though research into the question is ongoing. It’s theorized that if SCP-021 is able to
exist on a non-human animal, that it would only occur in the rarest of circumstances. Unlike most parasites, SCP-021 does offer
some small, but tangible benefits to its host human. In addition to hosts of the organism appearing
to have an improved immune system, research has also shown that the presence of 021 will
increase its host’s release and reuptake of epinephrine, better known as adrenaline. It will also decrease the buildup of lactic
acid, which is what builds up in the muscles during activity and causes burning sensations
and soreness. Combined, these benefits from SCP-021 provide
its host with increased strength and confidence, as well as give a heightened pain tolerance
during stressful situations. Not surprisingly, the host of SCP-021 also
displays a high level of aggression, though whether this comes from their elevated hormone
levels or simply because the organism causes them to be in constant pain is still an unanswered
question. The amount of time that this symbiotic relationship
can be sustained is typically limited to how long the host can tolerate the unceasing pain
of the tattoo moving about their body. The persistent agony that a host of SCP-021
endures has led to multiple hosts having taken their own lives, and in a few rare cases,
they have also succumbed to fatal skin infections. Though these were likely the result of open
wounds caused by the host scratching at their own skin, rather than anything directly attributable
to the organism. SCP-021 is currently contained on the body
of a D-Class personnel, D-139, who is housed in standard detention cell 217-A, and the
relative ease with which it can be kept on a human subject’s body has led to it receiving
the Safe classification. Only D-Class personnel are eligible to be
a host to SCP-021, and currently operating procedure is to allow the organism to live
on the same host’s body until they expire. The exact nature of what SCP-021 is as well
as its origins remain a mystery to the Foundation. Attempts have been made to trace the path
of its transmission from before its time in containment, and it is hypothesized that the
organism could be many hundreds of years old, if not older. As evidenced by its low SCP number, 021 is
one of the oldest SCPs that the Foundation keeps contained, and it has proven to be a
very useful educational tool for new and upcoming researchers, as they study this bizarre creature
and its existence that occurs entirely within two dimensions. A young man is in the middle of one of his
regular night jogs through the park. He loves running through this park at night. It’s dark, the air is cool, and the sounds
of the city that surround the park disappear, offering peace, quiet, and a small reprieve
from the busy world. He jogs along a path that winds through the
park and starts upon a section that is surrounded on both sides by tall trees. He follows the path around a sharp bend and
is stopped in his tracks. Standing there, in the middle of the track
is a figure. It has its back to him and isn’t moving. He’s tall, and so uniformly black that he
almost disappears into the night. Whoever or whatever this is, he’s scared
of it. But the creature doesn’t move and neither
does he. He’s frozen, unsure of what to do, when
the creature suddenly turns his head towards him, revealing a pair of bright, glowing eyes. The runner is so terrified he can’t even
scream. He falls and crawls backwards in the dirt,
trying to get away from the creature. The creature turns its body towards him and
begins stepping forward. The runner scrambles to his feet, and runs. He’s sprinting as hard and as fast as he
can, adrenaline pumping, heart pounding, trying to put as much distance as he can between
himself and that… that thing. His muscles burn, his lungs ache, but he can’t
stop. Finally he’s back at his house. He bursts through the door, locking and bolting
it behind him. His girlfriend is reading on the couch and
doesn’t understand what’s going on. After struggling to catch his breath he tries
to explain what he saw on the path, but his girlfriend just laughs. A giant man with glowing eyes? He was just seeing things in the dark. It was probably a dog. Nothing that would justify the panic he was
now in. The next day, he’s left wondering if he
really was mistaken. Those piercing, glowing eyes are burned into
his mind though. Maybe his girlfriend was right and it really
was just a dog. Yes, that must be it. His mind was just playing tricks on him in
the dark. Even so, he’s going to stick to running
inside, at least for a little while. But he soon finds that he’s having a hard
time. He notices that he’s running out of breath
much quicker than normal. Is he coming down with something? He doesn’t feel sick, but then why is he
suddenly so weak? Two weeks have passed since he saw something
in the park. No one he brought it up to, not his friends,
not his coworkers, have ever heard of such a thing, and no one seemed like they believed
him either. At this point he is feeling sure that he really
did imagine it. But he can’t get that image of whatever
it was out of his head. He can’t keep running on a treadmill forever
though. He misses his night runs. It’s time to get over his fear. He’s running through the park again, enjoying
the silence and the light breeze on his skin. He continues down the path, acutely aware
that he’s getting closer and closer to the spot where he saw that thing before. He can’t stop though. He has to prove to everyone that he’s not
afraid. He has to prove it to himself. He reaches the part of the path that runs
through the tall trees. Just like before, the sounds of the city melt
away, the only sound coming from his steady, heavy breathing. He follows the winding path and feels his
heart starting to race but he has to keep going. He rounds the same corner and… nothing is
there. He slows to a stop. Of course nothing is here. Nothing ever was. He really did imagine it. Or did he? Buongiorno! Today’s file comes from the Italian branch
of the SCP Foundation. SCP-015-IT also known as… The Boogeyman. SCP-015-IT is a humanoid entity that stands
just under two meters tall. It’s body is devoid of any hair, and its
dark, black skin absorbs 98% of all light, making it virtually invisible in low light. Its head lacks a nose or ears, but these missing
features are hardly noticed, because if you see 015-IT, its eyes are what demand all of
your attention. While the Boogeyman’s skin is completely
black, its eyes contain light-producing organs on the irises, causing them to glow in the
dark, like a deep sea predator. Its mouth contains eight pointed teeth on
both the upper and lower jaws, and a long, 28 centimeter forked tongue. The two tips of its tongue each have a hollow
needle-like organ that lead straight into its esophagus. More on what it does with that specialized
biological feature soon. Physically, SCP-015-IT is rather slight, but
it is surprisingly strong, and easily able to overpower an adult human. It’s skinny arms are much longer than an
average human’s, and each of its four fingers ends in a razor sharp claw. It has also been shown to be quite resistant
to physical injuries, and possesses the ability to heal wounds and damage to internal organs
at a hyper accelerated rate. SCP-015-IT is primarily active at night, which
is unsurprising given its skin's natural camouflage in the dark. The Boogeyman hunts mammals, with humans being
its preferred prey, but it does not feed on flesh. Instead, SCP-015-IT draws its sustenance from
the adrenaline and noradrenaline produced by its quarry. Adrenaline and noradrenaline are chemicals
the body produces to increase heart rate, blood flow, and provide more energy to the
muscles in moments of stress, or in the case of SCP-015-IT, extreme fear. And it has developed a hunting method to cause
this exact reaction in humans. 015-IT will usually hide in dark spots, trying
to keep out of sight as much as possible, as it stalks its next victim. If it has been able to remain unseen, it will
wait for a moment when its prey has become distracted so it can silently approach them. Once close enough, it will leap towards its
unaware victim, grab them, and quickly bite them on the side of the torso near where the
adrenal gland is located. It uses its large teeth to anchor its mouth
in place as it uses the needles on its forked tongue to probe into their body. With one needle, it pierces directly into
the adrenal gland and begins draining the blood that is now rich with fear induced adrenaline. At the exact same time, the other needle releases
a mild sedative, allowing 015-IT to feed and then depart without risk as the victim remains
immobile. Another anomalous effect occurs when someone
is unlucky enough to actually see The Boogeyman. Roughly two weeks after observing the creature,
the person who saw it will begin experiencing various detrimental mental effects including
hallucinations and panic attacks. Some will also begin to experience physical
issues, most often damage to the cardiovascular system. It is unknown why exactly these mental and
physical effects occur, but it is theorized that SCP-015-IT may use it as a way to weaken
certain prey that it considers too strong or potentially dangerous. In 2011, the Boogeyman was actually contained,
but not by the SCP Foundation. The Brotherhood of Saint George’s Knights
is a secret order in the Catholic Church that was created by the pope in the year 453 to
either contain or eliminate all anomalies, and it was this group that first captured
SCP-015-IT, which they designated as Dia-212 inline with their own classification system. While it was in their containment, they made
a number of discoveries about the creature that they labeled as a “Shadow Demon.” First, they found that while it feeds on the
fear of its victims by ingesting their blood, it doesn’t actually require this to survive. Dia-212 as they call it is an unstable entity,
and feeding allows it to maintain its physical shape in our reality. In addition to its impressive physical strength,
the Boogeyman is also quite intelligent as seen by its ability to successfully hunt,
attack, and escape from humans. Strangely it also appears to be resistant
to weapons which have been blessed, causing only a fraction of the physical damage that
they should when compared to a similar non-holy version. During the course of research into the creature,
Father Ilardi, a member of the Brotherhood of Saint George’s Knights, wrote that despite
the creature being “repugnant beyond every limit,” he believed that it had a “gentle
soul” and that “its screams are similar to a pained cry.” He postulated that SCP-015-IT may have even
once been a human before some dark force transformed it into the monster that it had become. He decided that it was his mission to find
a way to communicate with the creature, and one day, bring it back into the light and
love of his god. Father Ilardi was making good progress with
the creature, and it seemed like it was even growing fond of him and his disciples. But his advances were halted when they were
attacked by a group of soldiers from the Fascist Council of the Occult, a terrorist group that
seeks to use anomalies as weapons in their quest to disrupt the social order. In the attack, several of the Brotherhood
were killed and in the commotion, SCP-015-IT escaped. Following this, reports soon began to come
from the province of Caserta that described what sounded like “vampire attacks.” A Mobile Task Force was sent to the area and
while 015-IT was initially able to make use of its various physical abilities to evade
and escape capture, it was eventually shot with a transmitter that allowed it to be tracked. The Italian Mobile Task Force was able to
surround the creature, but fearing being contained again, it responded with a level of violence
that it had not been thought capable of. Several members of the task force were killed
in the line of duty before the Boogeyman could finally be subdued. Today, SCP-015-IT is contained at Site Vittoria
in the Emilia-Romagna region of Italy. Since this anomaly is both sentient and highly
unpredictable in its behavior, it has been classified as Euclid. It is kept in a standard humanoid entity containment
cell and is monitored by video cameras and infrared sensors at all times. Due to the light absorbing properties of its
skin, its cell and the adjacent corridors are painted white and are to be kept well
lit at all times. Twice a day, SCP-015-IT is given a normal,
domestic pig that is allowed to feed on. Any personnel assigned to 015-IT duty must
undergo a psychological assessment on a weekly basis and, regardless of the results, must
be cycled out after three months of exposure to The Boogeyman. A young man tosses and turns in bed. He adjusts his pillow and tries sleeping on
his back, his side, his stomach, but nothing works. He rolls over to check the time - 3 am. This is the third night in a row he hasn’t
been able to fall asleep. He feels tired. He wants to sleep. But every time he closes his eyes and sleep
starts to creep in something happens and suddenly he’s wide awake again. It’s as if someone keeps flipping a switch
in his brain to “awake” and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. It’s affecting everything in his life. He can’t concentrate in class. His work performance goes down the drain. Even his hobbies become completely unenjoyable. All he wants to do is sleep. His friends and family can tell something
is wrong. It’s as if he has become a different person,
and they urge him to go see a doctor. But the doctor’s tell him there’s nothing
they can do for him. He’s perfectly healthy otherwise. He should try some natural remedies like valerian
root and get more exercise. He has no idea how many days he’s been awake
now - four? Five? Maybe more? At this point, the lack of sleep isn’t even
the worst part, it’s the hallucinations. Sometimes they’re just a shadow dancing
outside of his vision, but others are incredibly vivid, feeling more real than his now dreary
life does. He had to stop going to work and class entirely
since he can’t concentrate for more than a couple of seconds at a time. His friends don’t want anything to do with
him and who can blame them? He has uncontrollable mood swings and lashes
out for no reason. He’s tried every sleep remedy there is,
he took the doctor’s advice and exercised as hard as he ever has, but with never being
able to sleep he has no energy left. He’s becoming a living zombie. He gets up out of bed but loses his balance
and collapses to the floor. He tries to get up but he can’t. He’ll just lie there for a while. He starts to drift away and he readies himself
for the jolt that always wakes him back up, but this time, it doesn’t come. The wave of sleep that starts to wash over
him feels different this time though. It’s heavier, more peaceful… and more
permanent. Hi! I’m Dr. Bob, and this is SCP-966, also known
as... Sleep Killer. SCP-966 is the designation that the SCP Foundation
has given to a creature that belongs to a group of anomalous, predatory beasts. Standing 1.4 to 1.6 meters tall, and weighing
roughly 30 kilograms, these hairless, humanoids have an elongated face, a mouth full of pointed,
needle-like teeth, and each of their hands has five razor sharp claws that can be up
to 20 centimeters in length. They are bipedal, and walk upright, though
unlike humans and apes, they are digitigrade, meaning that they walk using only their toes. But you won’t be able to see the horrible
visage of SCP-966 under normal circumstances, as they are only visible under very specific
lighting conditions. They can on;y be viewed under light that has
a wavelength between roughly 700 and 900 nanometers, which is just at the edge of the light spectrum
that’s visible to humans stretching into what’s known as infrared light. The only exception to this is if their skin,
muscles, or organs have suffered from second or third degree burns, in which case the affected
areas of their body will show up under a greater spectrum of wavelengths that are visible to
the human eye. Though frightening to look at, SCP-966 are
actually quite weak physically with very low muscular density. Their bones are hollow, similar to birds,
and while their claws may be incredibly sharp, they are also easily broken, making them unsuited
for use in combat. Additionally, they do not rest through sleep,
but will, at seemingly random times, stop all movement and fall into a rest period that
lasts roughly three to five minutes, after which they are able to resume their normal
behavior. With all of these physical shortcomings, how
did SCP-966 gain a reputation as such a fearsome hunter? The secret lies in their ability to emit bursts
of a previously unknown type of wave. Hunting either alone or in pairs, SCP-966
uses this wave to inhibit its prey’s ability to enter any of the restful sleep stages,
and also stops the ability to micro-sleep. These waves have been observed to be effective
at up to 20 meters, though tests have shown that they can be blocked by post-transition
metals, of which lead appears to be especially effective. SCP-966 hunts and feeds on medium-to-large
sized animals, which includes humans, and once their quarry has been targeted by the
sleep inhibiting waves the effect is permanent, with no method having yet been discovered
that will allow them to regain the ability to sleep. Experiments have shown that unconsciousness
can be induced in other ways such as with the use of general anesthesia, although these
methods have ultimately proven to be ineffective, since although the victim is unconscious,
they are still not receiving any of the restful benefits of sleep while in that state. The effects of sleep deprivation on humans,
both mentally and physically, are devastating. Symptoms can begin setting in after just 24
hours that can include mood swings, memory issues, and sensory impairment. After two to three days, the body’s hormones
become deregulated and bodily functions like hunger, thirst, and temperature fluctuate
wildly as cognitive abilities start to dramatically decline. Hallucinations, paranoia, and fits of rage
are common, and the risk of death from sleep deprivation increases with each day that passes
without sleep. And this is exactly what SCP-966 wants. After surreptitiously sending a burst of sleep
deprivation waves at their victim, they will then stalk their prey until lack of sleep
finally leads to total incapacitation, at which point, SCP-966 consumes them. SCP-966 have proven to be both extremely quiet
and agile when hunting. However they have actually been observed intentionally
making threatening noises around their prey, presumably to further increase their already
elevated stress levels and potentially hastening their mental degradation. On rare occasions they will even physically
assault their victim to further degenerate their mental and physical health. Some of SCP-966’s prey will experience especially
intense hallucinations and bouts of rage, which is theorized to be caused by prolonged
exposure to multiple instances of their sleep stopping waves. Why some victims are exposed to multiple waves
when a single instance has been shown to be one hundred percent effective is unknown,
and it’s hypothesized that they may only engage in this behavior when especially hungry
to try and speed up the process. Though others have put forth the theory that
SCP-966 may take some perverse form of joy in seeing its victims suffer prior to expiring. Wild instances of SCP-966 have been found
across the globe, and while the SCP Foundation has been successful in thinning their numbers,
they still exist in high enough numbers to pose a serious threat to humanity. For these reasons they have been assigned
the classification Euclid. Mobile Task Forces Iota-1 and Iota-2, codenamed
the Dream Hunters and Air Chasers respectively, are continually monitoring for any reports
of sudden or violent deaths related to sleep deprivation in order to identify and neutralize
the remaining instances of wild SCP-966. Four SCP-966 specimens, three males and one
female, have been acquired by the Foundation. And they are currently contained in a 10 by
10 meter room that is lined with lead and equipped with infrared security cameras. Each specimen is fed 20 kilograms of meat
each month and in the event that the female specimen gives birth, the new specimen is
to be taken for observation and study before being disposed of prior to reaching maturity. Your phone suddenly vibrates. A text alert, nothing too surprising about
that… but you don’t recognize the number. You open the message and there’s no text,
just a picture. A strange figure dressed all in black, with
a face that looks like the skull of a dog. “Who sent this?” you think to yourself,
“is this a prank?” You try to put it out of your mind and go
about your day. The next day there’s another message from
the same number. You open this one to find the same dog skull
faced creature staring back at you, but this time you recognize the background. Is that your house he’s standing in front
of? Now you’re getting a little freaked out. Someone is trying to mess with you, you’re
sure of it. But what can you do? Another couple days pass and you get another
message. You don’t need to look to know it’s that
same number again, you’ve been getting plenty of these over the last few days. You’re really scared now and you run out
of the house to your car. You’ve got to get out of here. You drive, and while stopped at a light you
decide to finally check this latest message and see what it is. It’s the creature again, but this time,
it’s a picture of him sitting in the backseat of your car. You put your phone down and slowly turn your
head - Hi! I’m Dr. Bob, and THIS is SCP-1471, also
known as... Mal-O version one point oh point oh. SCP-1471 is a very interesting anomaly that’s
not really a creature, or a monster, or even an object. It’s a mobile app. It’s 9.8 megabytes in size and is freely
available in online application stores where it’s listed under the name Mal-O version
one point oh point oh. There’s no developer listed on any of the
stores, and it seems as though the app is somehow able to bypass the normal application
approval process and appear directly on the stores for wide distribution. Once SCP-1471 is downloaded and installed
on a device, there are no icons, shortcuts, or widgets like you’d expect when installing
software. It also does not appear on program managers
and once installed, it seems there’s no way to remove it. Within three to six hours of installing the
app, the individual whose device it is will begin receiving mysterious picture messages. All of these images will have one thing in
common - somewhere in the foreground or background is a large humanoid figure with a canine-like
skull for a head and long black hair. This creature has been designated SCP-1471-A.
Sometime during the first 24 hours following the installation of SCP-1471, the individual’s
device will start to receive slightly different images from before. These images still always contain instances
of 1471-A, but now the locations will be recognizable to the individual. These pictures will be of places that the
individual regularly frequents, like their local grocery store, their school, or their
work. These sorts of images will continue to be
received until 48 hours since the initial installation has passed. At that point, the device will start to receive
images of places that the individual recently visited, like an image of the restaurant where
they picked up your lunch an hour ago. Just as before, all of these images have SCP-1471-A
somewhere in them, as if it’s been following them and wants them to know it. After 72 hours things get even stranger. Now the pictures received by the individual
will be of them in real time. They might receive a picture of themself sitting
on the couch taken in that exact moment, except SCP-1471-A is standing right behind them. But when they look there’s nothing there. It’s as if someone is photoshopping in this
bizarre, canid creature but doing so impossibly fast. Finally after over 90 hours have passed since
the app was installed, the weirdness reaches its peak. The individual no longer receives photo messages,
but instead will start to catch glimpses of SCP-1471-A in real life, either in their peripheral
vision, in reflective surfaces, or in both. At this point, the individual afflicted will
continue having visualizations of SCP-1471-A in the real world, a result that so far has
been irreversible. Individuals who have reached this extreme
stage of exposure have reported that the entity appears to be trying to visually communicate
with them, but none of them have been able to understand or comprehend whatever message
it’s trying to relay. Such was the case with a subject named William. William had first been exposed to SCP-1471
at fifteen years old when his sister, Sara, showed him an app she had downloaded earlier
in the day. The app’s description states that you will
never have to settle for awkward feelings of being alone ever again. That Mal-O is an exciting and interactive
experience that will keep you engaged and intrigued, and that after just a few hours
of Mal-O you will soon forget all about those painful emotions of disappointment. Neither William nor his sister knew how the
app worked, but they assumed it was tracking them using some kind of GPS and soon William
was receiving images from SCP-1471. The first one he received was of his school’s
courtyard, with SCP-1471-A, barely noticeable, sitting on a bench. He had black, matted fur, knife-like claws,
a set of blank, pure-white eyes, and a face that looked like the skull of a beast with
a large, wolfish grin. William was immediately frightened by this
but Sara insisted it was “cute” and “funny.” William wasn’t so sure. The pictures continued over the following
days, with SCP-1471-A appearing at his school, at his bus stop, on his street… nearly everywhere he went. And then the pictures started appearing as
if they had just been taken the moment they were received. William and Sara were both being sent the
same type of nightmare inducing images and they tried to delete the app from their phone
to stop them, but they couldn’t find where the application was stored. Then things got even worse… the creature
started appearing to William and Sara in the real world. William, as it turns out, was the lucky one
as SCP-1471-A primarily appeared to him in reflective surfaces like mirrors, which he
could cover with a curtain when he didn’t want to see the strange dog-skull face with
its toothy grin staring back at him. Sara was less fortunate. She saw the creature everywhere she looked,
it always appearing just outside of her periphery, catching glimpses out of the corner of her
eye, or feeling it looming over her and watching her as she slept. William has been able to cope with the appearances
of 1471-A, even regarding it as a somewhat comforting presence at times. Sara sadly, was driven mad by the never ending
visions of the creature. Currently, the only known treatment to reverse
the effects of SCP-1471 and the appearances of 1471-A is to eliminate the individual’s
exposure to the images before 90 hours have passed after installing the app. Once those 90 hours have e;a[sed though, it’s
too late, and SCP-1471-A becomes a permanent presence in the individual's life. Thankfully, 1471-A has thus far remained non-hostile
and has not been shown to pose a threat to those afflicted by it, at least not a physical
threat. All mobile devices that are found to have
Mal-O version one point oh point oh installed on them are to be confiscated and analyzed
for any potential information as to who might have created the application, as well as leads
for other devices that may have been infected. Following this investigation, the device’s
batteries are to be removed and the device placed in storage unit 91 at research site
45. Additionally, all online application stores
for mobile devices are to be monitored to prevent unsuspecting users from inadvertently
downloading the anomalous software. Any individuals who are suspected of having
downloaded SCP-1471 will have their device targeted by a self-uploading malware that
can disable it until it’s able to be seized by Foundation agents. Due to its unpredictable nature of the anomaly
and the potential sentience of the software itself, SCP-1471 has been classified as Euclid
by the SCP Foundation and research into ways to hopefully one day contain the anomalous
software is ongoing. A young man steps off the subway into the
station. Like many others on their daily commute, he
has headphones on and keeps his eyes glued to his phone as he messages his friends, plays
mobile games, and watches videos. He takes the escalator up and out of the subway
station, paying no mind to the rats that scurry past down the handrail. He steps out onto the street, head still never
looking up from his phone. He’s made this same trip hundreds if not
thousands of times, each step of his route home so burned into his mind that he could
make this journey blindfolded. He turns a corner when suddenly he looks up. There’s something different. In the split second before everything goes
wrong he realizes what it is. The grate he has stepped onto… has just
given way. The young man screams as he falls through
the loose drainage grate in the sidewalk and is swallowed up into the bowels of the city. He is in the air for only moments before landing
with a thud in the darkness below. The air is knocked out of him, but he’s
immediately aware that he didn’t hit the ground as hard as he could have. Something must have broken his fall. It’s too dark to see anything though. He feels around for his phone, it must be
around here somewhere. There, he’s got it. The screen is cracked but luckily it still
works. He turns on the flashlight and looks around. He appears to be in some kind of maintenance
area below the sidewalk. The room is mostly empty, so what did he land
on? He sits up and looks beneath him to find… Rats! A huge pile of rats. The young man screams and hops up as the rats
squeak and scatter. He’s in a panic, looking for a way to get
out of here as quickly as possible, when he spots something else. There’s a pile of dirty clothes in the corner
of the room, or at least, he hopes it’s a pile of dirty clothes. He slowly steps towards whatever it is. Even after his own harrowing ordeal, he still
feels compelled to check it out. If he just found a body the police will need
to know, and he might even get his name in the paper. He can see the headline now: Local man finds
missing heiress after heroically plunging into city’s depths, inherits her millions
for some reason. As he steps closer he notices a cloud of gnats
and flies buzzing around the pile. He slaps at his neck, killing some kind of
biting fly. He’s standing right next to the pile, but
he still can’t tell if this is a person or not. “Hello? Are you okay?” the young man asks. No response. He nudges the pile with his foot and jumps
back. Did he feel something move? He sticks out his foot and nudges it again. The pile definitely moves this time. A man rolls over, his face covered in bug
bites. He’s moaning and reaching out, unable to
see from his blind eyes that look like they have been gnawed out by rats. He opens his mouth and with one last gasp,
appears to die right in front of the young man. The young man can only watch, frozen in fear,
as a rat wriggles its way out of his open mouth, and stares at the young man. The young man screams, turns, and runs. He doesn’t know where he’s going as he
runs through the dark tunnels but he finds a set of stairs and follows them up before
bursting out of a door into the open air. He slams the door behind him. He’s sure the man he saw in the tunnels
died, but he’s not taking any chances. He runs the rest of the way home, taking the
stairs up to his apartment two at a time. He gets into his home and locks and bolts
the door behind him. He leans against the door and tries to catch
his breath, letting himself slide down to the floor. Finally, safe at last. He slaps at his neck again. Another fly. It must have been in his coat. He takes off his jacket and shirt, shaking
them out, and is surprised to see more flies come out, but also other bugs like worms and
cockroaches. He keeps shaking, panicking now, as more and
more bugs fall from his clothes. He can see in the mirror on the wall that
his body is covered in bites… but that’s not what really has his attention. He gets close to the mirror, almost in a daze. This can’t be right. He must be hallucinating. He looks in the mirror, reaches into his nose,
and pulls out a cockroach. Flies crawl out of his mouth as he opens his
mouth to scream, while behind him, rats start squeezing in under his door and crawling up
his body until he is completely covered in a living, writhing mass of vermin. Many of the anomalies studied by the SCP Foundation
are cruel, horrific, and utterly mysterious, and this is one of the rare cases that embodies
all three. Because this is SCP-027, also known as… The Vermin God. SCP-027 is a phenomenon with strange and frightening
properties that seems to affect one human subject at a time. When someone becomes a host to this anomaly,
they will find that they are constantly surrounded by swarms of various types of vermin, parasites,
and other pests. The human host has no ability to control or
command these creatures, and in fact the animals will often show aggression towards the host,
biting and scratching at them as well as any other person who comes near. It is unknown what causes this effect, but
once someone has become a host to SCP-027, the effect appears to be permanent. The swarms of vermin that follow the host
do not appear instantly, and instead tend to follow the same pattern of showing up in
waves. First, swarms of flying insects including
gnat and flies will begin to form a cloud around the unlucky individual. Next, non flying creatures such as lice, cockroaches,
worms, spiders, and rats will begin to crawl on the host. The more time that passes, the more of all
of these that will appear. Should the host try to leave the location,
some of the pests will attempt to cling to them or follow behind, but many of the others
will disperse. As soon the host stops again though, the process
will repeat and they will once again soon be surrounded by bugs and rodents. While there is no way for a host to rid themselves
of the SCP-027 anomaly, the phenomenon has been known to be transferred to a new host,
but only following the death of the first. It appears that 027 will continue to jump
from host to host, and has likely done this many times in the past. Preliminary research into just how long SCP-027
has existed is ongoing, but early signs point to it having existed for potentially hundreds
of years. SCP-027 was first identified by the Foundation
when, in the 1990s, a male in his late thirties was found in an abandoned warehouse that was
completely overrun with rats and insects. The man was filthy, malnourished, and covered
in bites and scratches from a variety of pests. He also showed symptoms of deteriorating mental
health, likely caused by a combination of heavy substance abuse and sleep deprivation,
neither of which were unexpected given his horrendous circumstances. The anomalous properties of the subject were
quickly recognized by field agents, and he was brought to an SCP Foundation site, where
he unfortunately died while still under observation. An autopsy later revealed that over 70% of
the man’s body at the time of death consisted of a colony of rats that had nested in his
abdomen and had been living there long enough to produce at least several generations of
offspring. Around six days after the man’s death, a
Foundation Security Officer at the site where the man had been held reported to medical
staff that he was experiencing breathing issues. He told them they began after he had been
woken up by what he thought was a housefly crawling up his nose. Later investigations would reveal that this
statement was true and that the fly laid a clutch of eggs in his sinus cavity as well. The security officer was placed under observation,
and following the appearance of more types of vermin, he was classified as SCP-027-02. The man who died was then reclassified as
SCP-027-01 and SCP-027 was redefined as an anomalous effect rather than one individual. It is still unknown just how SCP-027 attracts
animals or why it chooses the ones it does to summon to its location. Neither SCP-027-01 or 02 have expressed any
communication with any kind of entity or the feeling that one was present and were unable
to provide any additional information on the mysterious qualities of the anomaly. In an interview that took place not long after
the security officer was identified as a host and placed into containment, he only described
feeling dirty and itchy, like he needed a shower. He was deeply frightened by what was happening
and expressed the desire to rid himself of the anomalous effect as soon as possible so
that he could rejoin his family. Research into the anomaly continues but analysis
of the current host has been inconclusive at best. The lack of understanding about just what
SCP-027 is, how its anomalous effect functions, and how it jumps to a new host has led the
SCP Foundation to classify it as Euclid. The current host for the anomaly is being
held in a five by five meter cell with a raised, grated floor that is connected to a strong
vacuum system to trap any vermin that appear. Any creatures that are removed from the cell
are to be incinerated, except for a small portion which are sent to research teams for
analysis, though so far all animals have appeared to be completely non-anomalous in nature. SCP-027-02 is to be monitored by at least
two Foundation personnel at all times and in the event that the subject exhibits any
odd behavior or an unexpected species of animal is discovered in the cell, it is to be reported
to a Level 4 personnel immediately. Security personnel assigned to 027 duty are
to be vaccinated against all possible animal-borne diseases and have permission to subdue the
subject with tranquilizers should the need arise. Should the subject appear to be experiencing
a serious medical event, all high-value personnel should be moved far away from the current
host to lower the chance of them becoming a host to the anomaly, and no personnel of
Level 4 Clearance or higher should approach within 200 m of the Subject at all until SCP-027
and its strange properties are better understood. You’re deep in the middle of a late night
study session when you hear something… it’s a sort of clicking sound. You try to ignore it and get back to your
books, but there it is again. You turn up your music. There, that’s better. It was probably nothing. Just the house creaking - but no, there it
is again. You need to figure out what is causing this. You look around, is it coming from outside
your window? Another click. It’s definitely coming from outside. You slowly make your way to the window. It’s dark out, and you can’t see anything
with the glare. Slowly, you reach out, grab the window, pull
it open, and… Nothing. You stick your head out and look around, but
there’s nothing to see. You close the window and go back to studying. But then it happens again. The next morning you’re eating breakfast
when you start to hear that clicking noise again. But still nothing is there. On the bus you could swear it’s coming from
the seat right behind you. No sign of anything once again. You’re in the middle of your test. Vertebrae are connected to each other by…
what’s the word? It’s not going quite as well as you hoped,
it was hard to study last night with the constant clicking, but you’re giving it your best. At least the noise has stopped so you can
concentrate for a bit. You jump up and look behind you, determined
to catch what’s making this noise, but there’s nothing there. You look around at your confused classmates
before sheepishly sitting back down. The cracking noise is almost endless now. You can hardly go a moment without hearing
it. It goes on like this for months and months. No one else can hear it, and no one seems
to believe you. On one level, you’ve been able to get used
to it, but on another, you never have adjusted to the constant clicking that follows you
everywhere you go. You’re sitting on the floor of your room,
concentrating, focusing hard, trying to will the noise out of your mind. You clench your eyes shut as hard as you can
and put all of your mental energy towards stopping the noise when just then… it’s
gone. No more clicks. You open your eyes, could this be it? Could it all be over? Click, click, click. You turn around to see it. But it’s too late. What you have just witnessed is a textbook
example of an SCP-4975 attack. An anomaly that has been aptly nicknamed… Time’s Up. SCP-4975 is a tall, thin, entity with some
vaguely avian features, most notably a beak. Its long limbs lack any distinct digits, instead
tapering off into formless nubs, and a thick, hardened layer of dark skin covers its entire
body including its beak. In addition to its striking appearance, SCP-4975
is perhaps best known for the distinctive clicking sound that it makes. The vertebrae in its long neck are not connected
by any intervertebral discs or other tendons, and each of these neck bones appears to be
able to move independently of one another. It rotates these vertebrae constantly, one
at a time, from bottom to top ending at its head, creating a constant swinging motion
of the head back and forth. It is each movement of these vertebrae that
produces the distinctive clicking or cracking sound. SCP-4975’s primary behavior is the pursuit
and stalking of human beings. Once it has chosen a target, for reasons that
still remain unknown, it will begin to follow them, and only the target will be able to
hear the clicking sound, though they won’t be able to determine where the sound is actually
coming from. SCP-4975 will continue to stalk its victims
for an extended period of time, as long as ten months or more, until at some point it
stops swinging its head, the clicking sounds cease, and 4975 attacks. In an attack, SCP-4975 uses its long appendages
to club and tear the victim apart, after which it will consume them, often starting while
the victim is still alive. One single human size cadaver appears to be
enough to last SCP-4975 for several months, after which it will target a new prey and
begin the process all over again. Evidence of SCP-4975 has been found as far
back as 1538, with a creature very similar to it appearing in numerous German folk tales. Multiple artistic depictions from the time
also show a large, black avian creature that can only be assumed to be the same anomaly. In what should be a bit of good news, SCP-4975
is currently in containment at an SCP Foundation facility, where it is confined to a standard
steel containment cell. However as you’ll soon see, this containment
has not resulted in the end of SCP-4975 attacks, and reports of new incidents continue to come
in. In one such report from the Black Forest region
of Germany, Foundation Agents were investigating the case of a local man who had reported that
he had been hearing a rhythmic clicking sound for over four months. The man assumed he was being stalked, or was
the subject of a cruel prank, and asked the local authorities to look into the matter. The Foundation Agents took the man into custody,
giving the cover story to the local police that the man had been experiencing auditory
hallucinations and paranoia as a side effect of an experimental chemotherapy he had been
receiving. The agents took the man to the last place
he had heard the clicking sound, which was a wooded area. As they walked through the forest, the man
grew increasingly nervous, until he stopped and pointed at a tree, claiming that it was
where the sound was coming from. The man froze in fear as the agents drew their
weapons and prepared to inspect the three. They split up and with a tactical efficiency,
circled the tree on either side to find… nothing. At the same time, the man screamed, pointing
at a creature the agents could not see that the man claimed was coming for him. The man was thrown to the ground by his invisible
assailant and struck multiple times. The agents attempted to attack where it seemed
the invisible creature should be, but their fists and weapons passed through the air as
if nothing was there. Another agent attempted to drag the man away
but he was pinned down by a mysterious force. A large wound began to appear on the man’s
midsection as his abdomen was opened up. Still unable to move the man or stop whatever
it was that was attacking him, and with no other options, a Foundation Agent took out
his gun and terminated the man. Moments later, as the Agents looked on, strips
of flesh began to be torn from the body and vanish, as if an invisible creature was feeding
on the deceased man. But this invisible attack wasn’t even the
strangest part. At the exact moment the man in Germany was
killed and devoured by an unseen force, SCP-4975 was observed to be standing motionless, staring
at the southeastern corner of its containment cell, and it was no longer clicking its neck. Any human contact with SCP-4975 has been disallowed,
and all current research into the creature has been temporarily ceased. Though it has been classified as Euclid, following
these continued attacks and the bizarre behavior it exhibits as they take place, reclassification
to Keter-class is pending. In the event that a containment breach takes
place, it is official Foundation policy that any personnel who begin hearing a persistent
rhythmic cracking noise are to isolate themselves from other staff, and calmly wait for SCP-4975
to be returned to its chamber, or for the noises to stop. Perhaps as you wait for the clicking noise
to cease, you can amuse yourself with an old German nursery rhyme that is believed to have
been written about SCP-4975. Its translation goes: "Tick tock", the cuckoo clock ticks. "Cuckoo", the bird inside sings. As ticks the time, so ticks your heart. May you live long as you hear its song. Listen close, for when it stops
the hatchling comes out of its home. Did you hear it? Did it stop? My child, it meant your time… was up. Now go and watch another entry from the files
of Dr. Bob, 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.
