The first thing that tipped the Foundation
off to SCP-087’s presence were the reports of numerous unexplained disappearances on
campus. There were plenty of rumors about what might
be behind them, but Field Agents suspected that the true source of the vanishing would
be something beyond civilian imagination. All anyone knew for sure was that everyone
who had gone missing was last seen in a certain administrative building on the university
grounds, and that the disappearances only seemed to happen when the elevator was out. The campus was soon flooded with Foundation
agents, creating a barrier around the administrative building, and the presumed habitat of SCP
- 087. Nobody else could get in, and hopefully, whatever
was inside couldn’t get out. One of the Foundation’s lead scientists
was flown in to consult on the investigation. What could have been behind all those students
disappearing? The doctor’s preliminary interviews with
university staff who worked in the building yielded some interesting details: Strange
noises, like banging and even a faint, shrill crying, would be heard from a door that lead
to a no longer used stairway in Hallway 3B. Staff in the building had no reason to ever
take these stairs, especially considering how many of them reported a strange sense
of unease when just standing outside the door. The only reason someone might take those stairs
is due to…Elevator malfunctions. In that instant, the doctor had put it all
together. The staff they interviewed had their memory
wiped with Amnetics – special chemicals used by the Foundation with the power to delete
human memories. The Foundation only used them for staff or
civilians who had confirmed contact with an SCP, and the doctor knew that they had a live
one on their hands. The staircase. There was something terribly wrong with that
staircase, and it was the SCP Foundation’s job to find out what – before it made anybody
else disappear. This is the story of SCP – 087, otherwise
known as The Endless Staircase, and the three doomed journeys down into its murky depths. The doctor was more than eager to begin research
into the staircase, and its frightening, anomalous properties. After all, you don’t claw your way up to
being one of the Foundation’s key researchers without being brave, and perhaps just a little
bit deranged. As was standard, once a perimeter was secured
around the staircase, the good doctor requested a selection of D-Class personnel for testing. For those not in the know, D-Class is the
Foundation’s polite way of saying “cannon fodder.” The doctor was sent three D-Class prisoners
for use in his investigation of SCP – 087. The first, D-8432, was – according to official
documentation on the incident – a “43-year old male of average build and appearance and
unremarkable psychological background.” This man once worked for the Foundation in
a more official capacity, but he was given the often-deadly demotion to D-Class due to
a dangerous mistake handling SCP – 682 that lead to the deaths of several other agents. Now, it looked like it would be his turn. The doctor explained his mission to him: Explore
the staircase, gather data, help us find out exactly what we’re dealing with here. If you come back alive, there may even be
a promotion in it for you. And with that promise, D-8432 was given his
load-out: a 75-watt flood lamp with battery power capable of lasting 24 hours, an audio
headset, and a handheld camcorder fitted with a transmission stream. D-8432 was then pushed through the door in
Hallway 3B, and out onto the staircase. According to declassified Foundation files
describing the staircase, “SCP-087 is an unlit platform staircase. Stairs descend on a 38-degree angle for 13
steps before reaching a semi-circular platform of approximately 3 meters in diameter. Descent direction rotates 180 degrees at each
platform. The design of SCP-087 limits subjects to a
visual range of approximately 1.5 flights.” But in D-8432’s mind, “unlit” really
didn’t seem like the right word. He would have chosen “all-consuming darkness.” Despite carrying a powerful 75-watt lamp,
D-8432 was only capable of partially lighting the platform he was standing on – and the
illumination only stretched down nine of the thirteen steps to the next platform. When D-8432 observed how little help his lamp
was giving him, he was instructed to shine it out of the doorway into Hallway 3B. When he did so, the light seemed to shine
far further than it ever could in SCP – 087. Already, the beginning of anomalous activity
was obvious: Everywhere else, darkness is just the absence of light. In SCP – 087, darkness eats light. It was like a tangible, black mass that only
a certain amount of light could survive, while the rest just wouldn’t show. D-8432 swallowed hard over a lump in his throat. The door to Hallway 3B was closed behind him,
and he was ordered to descend. Surviving to see that promotion was feeling
unlikely, but it’s not like he had a choice. If he tried to escape SCP – 087 before he
was permitted, he’d be shot by SCP Foundation Field Agents on the spot. So he followed the high-ranking doctor’s
orders and began to descend the steps to the next platform. Nothing about the physical makeup of the staircase
itself seemed abnormal – the base and walls were a very plain, dull concrete, with a metal
handrail. The only thing that seemed unique about it
so far was the strange light-bending properties. That was, until he reached the second platform
down and he heard it, a soft, echoing cry. A child’s cry. It was shrieks of panic, or maybe even pain,
echoing up from below. He was asked why he had stopped, and he explained
the crying sound he’d been hearing. It sounded like it was coming from far down
the stairs, maybe 200 meters below him. He could just make out the words “please”,
help”, and “down here” coming from the darkness. But the team outside the stairwell couldn’t
hear anything, so they asked him to descend further. Another platform down, and they could hear
it too, the unmistakable cries of a terrified child. “Please”, “help”, and “down here.” D-8432 was ordered to keep going and only
stop if he noticed changes to the visual environment or in the sounds he was hearing. D-8432, knowing his life was on the line,
had to keep going, and descended another twenty flights of stairs before stopping to remark
that the sounds of the child hadn’t gotten any closer. They still sounded just as far away as when
he’d first heard them. He was told his observations were noted, and
pressured to continue. Within half an hour, D-8432 had descended
a full fifty floors, with no sign of a bottom in sight. Somehow the volume of the child’s crying
had remained consistent throughout, as if it was moving away from D-8432 at the same
rate he was descending. At this point, D-8432 reported that he was
feeling uneasy. The doctor said that this was understandable,
given the circumstances. He’d been watching what little there was
to see over a live video feed the entire time, and something about the truly bottomless nature
of the staircase, and the ever-elusive crying, was undeniably eerie. But things were about to really take a turn
for the worst. As D-8432 stepped forward towards the next
set of stairs, he froze. There was something on the platform below
him, barely illuminated by the light of his 75-watt bulb. It was a face. Vaguely human in size and shape, but with
a few terrifying differences: it had greyish skin, and no mouth, nostrils, or pupils. And yet, D-8432 could feel that this thing
was making eye contact with him. He couldn’t move, trapped in this thing’s
piercing gaze. In an instant, the face jerked forwards, suddenly
only about a foot away from D-8432’s face – eyes staring into his own. D-8432 screamed and ran, scaling all fifty
flights in an astonishing eighteen minutes, before charging out into Hallway 3B. There, he collapsed from the exhaustion and
the fear of what he’d just seen. Upon reviewing the footage, the strange face
was designated “SCP-087-1.” Fascinating. It was time for a second experiment. The doctor just had to know more. The second test subject was D-9035, a 28-year-old
male with a history of aggravated assaults against women. He was given the same loadout as his predecessor,
except this time with an even more powerful 100-watt bulb. He was also given 100 small LED lights that
had adhesive backs and a battery life of approximately 3 weeks, with which they intended to permanently
illuminate SCP – 087. However, despite the extra wattage of his
bulb, he still couldn’t illuminate beyond the ninth step. SCP – 087 wouldn’t allow it. Having no idea of the horrors that lurked
below him, he descended on the doctor’s orders, and began fixing the LEDs to walls
of each platform he passed. The LED always illuminated the landing, but
the light couldn’t pass the first step on either side. The flights of stairs themselves would remain
in perpetual darkness. After the second flight, D-9035 noticed the
same crying D-8432 had heard and became uneasy. Just like before, as D-9035 descended, the
volume of the crying didn’t seem to increase, as if for every step he descended, the source
of the crying descended one, too, keeping them at a constant 200 metres apart. Still, he was ordered to continue his descent
and the placing of LED’s even as his paranoia grew. When he reached the 51s floor, he observed
damage to the wall and steps – sections appeared to have been smashed to rubble by
an extreme force. As he descended past the broken step, he only
felt his fear, anxiety, and paranoia grow. The doctor made a note of the fact that SCP
– 087 seemed to cause instances of anxiety and terror in its occupants, even before they
encountered SCP – 087 – 1. As D-9035 reached platform 89 – a full 350
meters under the initial platform – he stopped dead in his tracks, and saw something staring
up at him from the platform below. That same terrible, grey face, with those
dead, white eyes. He was encouraged to stay calm and try to
get better footage of the face, but it charged for him and D-9035 ran for his life. He ascended the staircase at a staggering
pace, even passing out from exhaustion and remaining motionless for 14 minutes half way. When D-9035 finally gathered the strength
to get up, he scrambled back to Hallway 3B and fell into a state of catatonia. He remains unresponsive to all external stimuli
to this day, just staring off into the distance with a haunted expression. Almost like he’s still there in the hallway. The doctor wanted to conduct one more test
before he ordered SCP – 087 shut off from the world forever, and it was the most terrifying
of all. The final subject was D-9884, a 23-year-old
woman with a history of depression and the use of excessive force. The doctor had hoped that D-9884 would travel
the deepest yet, and so, he gave her the additional supplies of a backpack containing 3.75 litres
of water, 15 nutrient bars, and 1 thermal blanket. As far as the Foundation was concerned, she
was in this for the long haul. But none of them had any idea quite how right
they were. When D-9884 entered SCP – 087, all the lights
from the previous expedition had disappeared. Still, she was ordered to go deeper. She heard the crying of the mysterious child
– if it was even a child at all – and again she was ordered to go deeper. At the 496th landing, even as D-9884 seemed
to slip into a state of mortal terror, once again she was ordered to go even deeper. Every moment, he was hoping to get a better
look at the face of SCP – 087 – 1. And when D-9884 finally broke, and fled back
upstairs, he did. The face appeared but this time it was mere
inches behind her, staring directly into the camera with its blank eyes – startling even
this veteran of the supernatural. The face appearing caused D-9884 to panic
and flee, but instead of going back up the stairs to safety, she went deeper down the
staircase in an attempt to escape it. Deeper, and deeper, and deeper, until her
video feed cut out. D-9884 was never seen again. In the aftermath of the tests, the SCP was
classified as Euclid – it may have been dangerous, but at least it was easy to contain. The door to Hallway 3B was replaced with one
made out of reinforced steel, with an electro-release lock mechanism. It has been disguised to resemble a janitorial
closet consistent with the rest of the building. The lock won’t release unless a classified
number of electrical volts are applied, while the key is turned counter clockwise. And after a few inches of foam insulation
were applied to the inner side of the door, staff at the building never again reported
hearing strange noises. As for the fates of those lost within the
endless turning flights and platforms of SCP – 087, we may never know. But one can only assume it isn’t pleasant.
