It was 1965 and the Chicago PD was investigating
a meatpacking plant reported to be the home of a devil worshipping cult, complete with
allegations of human sacrifice. There the cops were met with heavy resistance. A firefight broke out between the police and
the occult worshippers who flooded out of the plant’s basement. The cops were pinned down, and in trouble,
but they had a secret weapon - heavily armed, decked out in sophisticated ballistic armour,
and covered in strange insignia. Mobile Task Force Epsilon-9, also known as
the Fire Eaters, here to assist the cops on behalf of the SCP Foundation. As always with the Foundation, they had no
interest in some mere human cultists. Those were a dime a dozen in the world of
anomalous monsters. What the Foundation had taken an interest
in was who or what these cultists were worshipping. It’d all begun a few weeks back, near Danforth
Meatpacking, an abandoned meat packing plant just outside of Chicago. No one had given the place a thought in decades,
that is until people started going missing. Rumors spread of people being snatched in
the surrounding woods by figures dressed in robes. Mysterious voices and noises were said to
be coming out from the cavernous belly of the plant. Some even reported seeing smoke rising out
of the building - thick, black, noxious smoke. Something was terribly wrong here. Something was...anomalous. The Chicago Police Department Strike Force,
in association with the Fire Eaters from the Foundation, mobilized at Danforth Meatpacking. While the police were initially reluctant
to work with these mysterious figures they turned out to be indispensable for the raid. There were forty-seven cultists holding out
in the basement of the plant, many of them heavily armed and all of them hopped up on
zealous devotion to their unknown master. All except one of the cultists fought to the
death during a tense firefight with Chicago PD and the Fire Eaters. The single survivor was still heavily injured,
and was taken to a secure Foundation facility for emergency treatment and debriefing. Typically, the Foundation would need to perform
extensive tests on the Danforth Meatpacking plant to discover the source of the anomaly’s
activity, however, this time, it was a Chicago detective who asked the question that busted
the case wide open: “The hell’s with the giant pig?” And while it would turn out to be a whole
lot more than that, there was indeed a giant, iron furnace shaped like a pig in the center
of the facility. Measuring 15m by 25m by 20m at its widest
points, the thing was a behemoth. It had an internal furnace despite no apparent
fuel source, and a five centimeter slot of unknown purpose on the side of the machine’s
immense, rusted hide. Naturally, all the police officers involved
in the raid had their memories wiped and restructured. And they were lucky, because they’d remain
forever ignorant of the true horrors about to unfold in the confines of that godforsaken
factory. As is standard procedure, the plant was isolated,
and a Foundation research team - led by Lead Researcher Westrin, under the authority of
Regional Director Caleb - was installed on the new provisional site to conduct tests. Other than everyone feeling somewhat uneasy
around it, this new anomaly, dubbed SCP - 4511, didn’t seem to exhibit any strange activity
save for its perpetually burning fire, but during the initial research period, a small,
white card suddenly popped out of the slot in SCP - 4511’s side. A researcher carefully approached and looked
at the card, there was writing. It said, “CURRENT DEMAND: A flock of my
own. - SATISFIED.” Though nobody on the team had any idea what
this meant. After going through a shoot out with a considerable
death toll to get to it, having a giant metal pig shaped furnace spit out a cryptic card
was strange. But at the secret medical facility where the
surviving cultist was being held, things were about to get a whole lot stranger. As he lay in a bed suffering from his injuries,
he pulled one of the medical staff close and uttered cryptic, dying words: “Give it whatever
it demands, or your suffering will be beyond measure.” He expired seconds later, less than 72 hours
after the raid. Back at the meat packing plant, at the exact
same time, another white card was produced by the machine, reading “CURRENT DEMAND:
The metal teeth that endlessly churn. PERIOD: One Week.” Perhaps this entity was a little more intelligent
than they thought. A number of researchers on the team, invigorated
by this new development, were eager to press forward with experiments. Lead Researcher Westrin, however, did not
share their enthusiasm. Something about this entire situation felt
like a grim omen to him. This entity had a plan far beyond their understanding
- and on some deep, animal level, he knew that helping this thing see its plans through
would lead to disastrous results. On this first gut impulse, he denied the request
for further experiments. But Regional Director Caleb had other ideas. Caleb overruled Westrin’s command, and the
experiments began shortly after. The entity, jokingly nicknamed The Swine God
by researchers, had made its demand: The metal teeth that endlessly churn. But what could that mean? It wasn’t long before the entity began to
produce more cards, each with their own strange and esoteric demands. However, on some instinctual level, the researchers
at the site understood the demands perfectly. The next card’s demand was "The metal of
this suffocating prison." Upon receiving this demand, researchers collected
scrap metal from around the new site, and tossed them into the furnace beyond the Swine
God’s jaws one by one. Inside, they heard the sound of metal crunching. Hours later, all the other metal in the site
began to rapidly oxidize and rust - though SCP-4511 itself remained unaffected. The card that came after delivered another
simple request: "Oil to slicken my frozen joints." The researchers understood and procured three
large barrels of oil and tossed them into the furnace. The entity let out a deep gurgle, before shaking
violently and expelling excess oil, rusted metal, and two domesticated pig femurs. It turns out that the Swine God had an appetite
for pigs, as the next card that rumbled out of the machine bore the request, “Two of
my children, made in my image, made in flesh." In response, the researchers provided the
entity with two adult pigs. Just like the previous requests, they too
were tossed into the fiery depths of the giant pig’s mouth, from which came the horrible
sounds of pigs squealing, and then a low, guttural gurgling. Next, the request was, “The hooks used to
hang my children's corpses." To satisfy this request the researchers provided
seventeen meat hooks. In response, 4511 spat out a metal sphere
at an extremely high velocity, killing observing Foundation Agent McHenry. For reasons that weren’t apparent at the
time, rather than giving Agent McHenry a proper burial, his body was also fed into the hungry
machine. Lead Researcher Westrin’s concerns were
mounting, but that didn’t amount to much now. 4511 had developed a taste for flesh, and
the researchers were all too eager to obey its command. On the Swine God’s order, it was fed a German
shepherd. An hour later, the entity spat out some teeth. Six of which came from a dog, and one from
a human. More than once, it released a card with the
blunt request “A worker for the line.” The researchers knew exactly what this meant:
It required a human sacrifice. SCP-4511 was given two D-Class personnel. One was flung back out seconds later, crunched
and burned to death with several internal organs missing. The other had a more mysterious and altogether
upsetting fate. The second D-class was heard screaming in
the belly of the furnace for roughly two hours. Thirty four minutes later, a strange liquid
was excreted by the machine. When the liquid was tested, they found trace
amounts of chemicals like pig urine and motor oil - but most disturbing of all, human genetic
material that was identical to that of Lead Researcher Westrin. It seemed that the Swine God had finally taken
an interest in him. After some final requests for large quantities
of coal, and even human children, to fuel its fires, it made the request that sent the
whole thing crashing down... “The false foreman, delivered to my maw
to prove your faith." Lead Researcher Westrin knew what this meant. They all did. The Swine God was demanding him in sacrifice. Lead Researcher Westrin tried to shut down
the entire project, but the Swine God was faster than him. One of his own researchers shot Westrin in
the leg, as the others gathered round and forcibly restrained him. He tried to reason with his subordinates,
but it didn’t do him any good. The Swine God had crawled into all their minds
and corrupted them - they were His servants now, and Westrin was doomed. Despite his protests, the servants forced
him into the mouth of SCP - 4511, and after a little over four minutes of screaming, Westrin
was devoured just like all the other sacrifices. Upon receiving news of the horrors unfolding
in the Danforth Meat Packing Plant, Regional Director Caleb declared the security of the
site compromised, and sent in Mobile Force Epsilon-11, aka the Nine-Tailed Fox. The four elite MTF soldiers were given the
simple instruction to figure out exactly what had happened, and to eliminate any potentially
compromised Foundation staff members who’d fallen under the Swine God’s power. When the team arrived, they realized just
how far gone the whole place was. Almost everyone was dead, having been sacrificed
to the machine, and the ones that were left were completely insane. They attacked the task force, shouting in
their madness about how no matter what the Foundation does to them, it would be nothing
compared to what it would do. It had them all under its rusty, iron foot. The team was forced to fend off repeated attacks
from the pig’s devotees, and even found the powers of the Swine God starting to affect
their own minds. The beast was more powerful and dangerous
than anyone had imagined. The trained Foundation researchers and guards
had been transformed into the same cultists they’d fought to gain control of the building
by the mind-bending power of the Swine God. The MTF were forced to retreat and return
with reinforcements to truly clean the place out. Once a slaughterhouse, always a slaughterhouse. At this point, Regional Director Caleb took
personal responsibility over the casualties since he’d been the one who signed off on
the experiments in the first place. He gave up his Regional Director rank, and
deemed himself the new Lead Researcher on the 4511 case. Now that he fully understood the scope and
danger of the entity they were dealing with, he wanted to lead the charge in discovering
more about the anomaly, and hopefully someday negating its deadly effects. This may sound like a happy ending, in spite
of all the violence, bloodshed, and human sacrifice that brought us here. But beware of the premature celebration. Despite investigation, the Swine God retained
no evidence of the objects, animals, and people it’d consumed and burned. Perhaps it’d burnt them down to their very
atoms, if those even still existed. What we do know is that not long after, after
Lead Researcher Caleb and his subordinates installed themselves into the facility, SCP
- 4511 produced one more little, white card. It read, “CURRENT DEMAND: A flock of my
own. - SATISFIED.” And if we’ve learned anything today, it’s
that the Swine God gets whatever it demands. A brutal truth that Lead Researcher Caleb
is likely to understand much sooner than he thought... Haven’t had your fill of eldritch horrors
hiding in disused buildings? Check out our two parter “SCP - 1730 - What
Happened To Site - 13” and “SCP - 1730 - Epic Final Battle At Site - 13.”
