A construction worker puts the final nail
into the wall of the room he’s working on. He stands up and admires his work. This is going to be a beautiful hotel one
day, a true triumph for not just him, but the entire country, and he’s proud that
he got to play a small part in its construction. He starts to pack up his tools, there’s
plenty more rooms that need work. It’s a massive structure that will ultimately
hold thousands. What a modern marvel. As he finishes putting away his tools, he
notices something. Through the still doorless frame, he sees
someone walk by in the hallway. Normally he wouldn’t think anything of it,
there’s plenty of other people working on this floor of the hotel, but there’s something
about this woman… could it be? No, it’s not possible. He takes out his wallet and opens it. Inside is a faded photograph of the construction
worker when he was still a young man, barely more than a boy really. Standing next to him in the picture is the
most beautiful woman he had ever known. She was his first true friend, his best friend,
and he always hoped that maybe it would turn into something more. They grew up together, shared so many experiences,
but then ultimately they were separated and lost touch. He was never able to find her again, but as
the picture in his wallet shows, he never stopped thinking about her. Could it really be her though? He runs into the hallway and calls out. The woman stops at the end of the hallway
and turns around. She’s carrying a tall stack of boxes that
are blocking her face. She sets them down and he sees… that it
really is her! They run towards each other, laughing like
children, like the way they used to, and embrace in the middle of the hall. He can’t believe it, it’s been so many
years! He never thought he would see her again. How long has it been? “Too long,” she tells him. He can’t believe how little she’s changed. The years have hardly taken any toll on her,
she’s just as lovely and beautiful as that last day he saw her. He asks her where she’s been, what she’s
been doing, is she… married? She tells him no, and that after they lost
touch, she feels like she has just been looking for him, waiting for the day she would randomly
see him pass by on the street, so that they could reconnect. She just never thought it would happen that
they’d be working in the same place at the same time. The construction worker can’t believe it
either. They both start to ask each other something
at the same time, but then stop and laugh at speaking over each other. “You go first” he tells her, “no you”
she responds with a laugh. Just then they’re both interrupted by the
sound of a whistle. The work is finished for the day. That’s the signal to pack up and go home. The construction worker tells her to wait
there, he just has to go grab his tools and then the two of them can go down together. But as he turns to leave she reaches out and
grabs his hand. “Wait” she tells him. He stops and turns back to her. “It’s ok” he tells her, “I’ll be
right back” but she doesn’t seem to want to let go of his hand. “Please, not yet” she tells him. “I just want you to stay with me.” He looks down at his hand. She’s gripping him so tight that it starts
to hurt a little. “Really, I’ll just be a second,” he
tells her, “then we can go somewhere and catch up.” But still she won’t let go of his hand. “I need you” she tells him.She steps close
to him, pressing her body against his. She closes her eyes and opens her mouth and
he feels himself doing the same. “I’ve always needed you…” she says
as their mouths are about to meet. “I need you forever.” The construction worker screams as the tiny
tendrils emerge from the woman’s body and plunge into his flesh. He opens his eyes to see the girl he once
knew morphing into a writhing mass of fibers, each reaching out towards him. A long tentacle-like appendage wraps itself
around his legs before whipping up and around his body, constraining him, as a second tentacle
wraps around his head, stifling his screams, before popping his head off of his body. North Korea… it’s a country that’s shrouded
in mystery, whose government, culture, and day to day life is a black box to many foreigners. But there’s another secret inside, one that
even the SCP Foundation is desperate to get to the bottom of, one that they know as SCP-031. SCP-031 is a massive organism, estimated to
weigh more than 7,500 kilograms, that can currently be found in a very surprising location…
the Ryugyong Hotel which is located in Pyongyang, the capital of Democratic People's Republic
of Korea. The giant creature lives within the ductwork
and maintenance infrastructure of the building where it has spread to all 105 floors of the
hotel. Each of its many tendrils ends in a pod-like
growth called a sporocarp, which are approximately two meters in length and covered in many cilia-like
structures. Subjects have reported that when in the presence
of these sporocarp, they don’t see them as the writhing mass of organic matter that
they really are, but rather as an individual from their past, often with one whom they
shared an intense emotional attachment. When taking this form, the sporocarp will
try to convince the subject to remain with them for an extended period of time. The sporocarp will then attempt to make physical
contact with the subject, and if successful, its cilia-like structures will begin injecting
digestive juices directly into the subject. This will lead to the start of a process that
will eventually cause their flesh to be broken down, consumed, and then incorporated into
SCP-031’s body mass. Unfortunately for the victim, this horrific
process does not kill them. At the same time they are being digested,
a flagellum, which is a tentacle-like appendage, will emerge from the sporocarp and wrap around
the subject’s head. This flagellum has its own set of tiny tendrils
that penetrate the cranial cavity and replace the victim’s brain's blood vessels, which
has the effect of keeping the brain alive and functioning. The head is then removed from the body and
the brain is transported to the central mass of the SCP-031 organism, where it too is incorporated
into the creature. It is estimated by Foundation researchers
that SCP-031’s mass contains thousands of such brains, and by all appearances, they
are still alive… and conscious. The Foundation first became aware of SCP-031
in 1948, following reports of police activity in North Korea at a location where multiple
citizens had gathered near a refugee camp. Those gathered were proclaiming their love
for a cult-like leader they referred to as “The Beloved.” The civilians were able to be calmed through
the use of gas based tranquilizers and amnestics by Mobile Task Force Psi-7, who then recovered
a mass that would later be known as SCP-031 and secured it at a local containment site. The SCP-031 creature only weighed 75 kilograms
at this time, and still had a vaguely human shape. It did not seem to be able to incorporate
other matter into its form at this point either, nor could it take on other people’s forms,
with its only anomalous effect seeming to be its ability to inspire intense feelings
of love and devotion. The breakout of the Korean War in 1950 led
to the destruction of the Foundation containment site, and all anomalies housed there escaped. Following the end of the war in 1953, all
of the escaped anomalies were accounted for, all except SCP-031, which was presumed dead. Little more thought was given to the terminated
anomaly until 1992, when the SCP Foundation caught wind of reports describing numerous
fatalities involving workers at the Ryugyong Hotel. A Mobile Task Force was sent to the hotel
to investigate further, but after none of the members returned from the mission, the
hotel was locked down and all construction was halted until further notice. By 2008, the increased infestation of the
still windowless hotel led to local officials starting construction again to finish the
building’s exterior and hopefully hide the presence of SCP-031 within, which led to the
deaths of even more workers. It’s estimated that at its peak infestation,
more than 75% of the hotel’s 3,000 rooms were infested by SCP-031, but reclamation
efforts have been able to reduce that number substantially. Flame projecting equipment is able to destroy
SCP-031 tendrils and sporocarps, as well as any personnel who have become assimilated
into SCP-031. Reclamation efforts are ongoing and local
officials continue to work with the SCP Foundation to facilitate the ultimate containment or
neutralization of the entity. But there’s one more strange twist to this
story. The more astute SCP experts may have noticed
the similarities to SCP-1427, a large slab of beryllium bronze with mind altering effects
that is also located within the Ryugyong Hotel. How is it that two anomalies, both of which
strongly impact the human brain, are both somehow housed at the same location? Some clues exist in the form of a classified
communication chain between two senior members of Foundation staff. The two discuss the obvious discrepancies
that exist when there are records of two anomalies both existing at the same place at the same
time, with neither file referencing the other. It leads to a strange paradox where for one
to exist, the other isn’t able to. And yet, they both do exist. Teams sent to investigate SCP-1427 will find
SCP-1427, and teams sent to investigate SCP-031 will find SCP-031, and yet the first team
will have no memory of seeing SCP-031, and vice versa. When the teams were sent at the same time,
they were unable to find each other, as if they were existing in parallel dimensions,
each with its own version of the Ryugyong Hotel housing its own version of an SCP classified
anomaly. Do both anomalies exist? Or perhaps neither of them do? And both SCPs are in fact the result of a
third, as yet unknown anomaly? The answer to that question remains unknown,
at least to the two senior members of staff who were communicating about the contradictory
files. Both were relieved of their duties under…
well… suspicious circumstances, and for the time being, both files continue to exist
in the database, just as both anomalies seem to exist in the Ryugyong Hotel. For now, this Euclid class anomaly continues
to be contained as well as it can be within the ducts and maintenance shafts of the Hotel’s
central spire. The three secondary spires each contain a
Type-9 Heaven's Blade Restriction System that focuses a disruptive energy field towards
the central spire. This system prevents SCP-031's psychic energies
from escaping the structure and affecting any off-site personnel, as North Korean teams
continue to push back against the spreading tendrils in the hopes that one day they will
finally be able to open the hotel. Now go and watch another entry from the files
of Dr. Bob, like SCP-024 Game Show of Death, for another anomalous location that is both
strange, and very, very dangerous. 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.
