Some of the anomalies the SCP Foundation deals
with are dangerous, with the most powerful able to end all life and even reality as we
know it. Others pose no threat at all, and seem content
to simply exist. Still others are something else entirely. SCP-4999 is a humanoid entity, though its
appearance seems to fluctuate between manifestations, with the only unchanging detail being that
it is always dressed in dark formalwear. Originally thought by many to be an urban
legend, local tales of SCP-4999 are what initially tipped the Foundation off to its existence,
and further research indicates that there are accounts that may be referring to the
appearance of 4999 throughout recorded history. Strangest of all though, is the consistency
with which it appears, or rather the consistent situations and types of people it appears
to. From the data available, it seems that SCP-4999
only appears to people in a very specific type of need. As you’ll see in the case of a subject named
Alex Hereford and the fateful night he experienced. The road was slippery, and Alex was driving
too fast. He knew this of course, but it's a different
matter altogether to know a thing, and to care about it. Rain hammered on the front windshield, the
weak headlights of his 2005 Honda Civic barely punching into the thick, black night ahead
of him. Winding through the mountain side, the road
was mostly empty, save for the very occasional twin beams of light blazing past him due to
his high speed. It was hard to hear the honking of angry horns
over the heavy pounding of the rain. Then, it happened. In a way, Alex knew it was inevitable. His tread-worn wheels finally lost contact
with the ground, thick layer of rainwater between them and asphalt betraying his speeding
vehicle's grip on the road and sending it careening out of control. He had expected fear, but instead felt...
nothing really. A slight sense of anticipation, like wincing
right before a punch lands in that childhood game of hitting each other on the arm. It wasn't that the world had slowed down,
but perhaps his brain was simply working at a much greater velocity now, recognizing its
own impending death. His speed of thought seemed magnified to the
point of slowing his perception down. He'd heard of soldiers in war zones experiencing
the same phenomenon as they felt sure that in the next few seconds, they'd be dead. Alex wondered, would he smash into a tree? Go over a cliff's edge? He could hardly see the forest or the terrain
beyond in the thick rain and dark of the mountain. Though he'd traveled this road a million times
before, he had no idea where he actually was tonight. He supposed it wouldn't really matter which
it was. As usual, his thoughts turned to her. Or rather, they had simply run their course
and returned to the one place they always did. It wasn't like there were many other people
to think about in Alex's mostly empty life. There was, and always had been since the moment
he'd met her, mostly just her. But even Alex's heightened state of mind couldn't
delay the inevitable for long. It would be a cliff after all, Alex thought
curiously, catching a glimpse of town lights far away and below. The car spun 180 degrees out into empty air,
then came crashing down with a horrible roar of shattered glass and tearing metal as it
tumbled down the hillside. Even over the torrential downpour the noise
of Alex's crash was significant- had anyone been around to hear it. Finally, after over a hundred feet down a
steep incline, the car smashed into a single thick oak tree, bringing the disaster to an
end. As if on cue, the rain began to let up. Slowly at first, then all of the sudden in
that peculiar way that Northwest torrential downpours tend to do, as if the sky had at
last finished emptying itself all at once. Inside the shattered vehicle, Alex was- incredibly-
alive. At least for the time being. The airbag deployment had spared his face
the worst of it, and the sturdy aluminum frame of the vehicle had given its all in protecting
Alex's body from the downhill crash. But even post-modern vehicle engineering has
its limits. His breath came in slow, ragged gasps, difficult
at first but gradually steadying. Not an improvement in his condition, but rather
his body dedicating the rapidly dwindling resources at its disposal into keeping vital
functions going as long as possible. Opening his eyes, Alex was surprised to find
himself right side up, less surprised to look down at the shattered mess his limbs and lower
body had become. Gradually, Alex's thoughts cleared, his sense
of self returning after the bone-jarring drop down the steep incline and sudden stop at
the end. Looking to his right, he could see the trunk
of the tree that had stopped his out of control tumble. Despite himself, Alex laughed- a weak, gurgling
chuckle. So, it was the cliff and a tree after all. He focused on breathing, letting the waves
of pain wash over him until his brain eventually canceled them out by injecting his broken
body with adrenaline and chemicals. Everything was quiet and still after the crash
and the rain, but to his surprise he realized he could hear... something. It was faint at first, just a soft crunch
of footsteps on gravel, but the sound grew louder and louder until at last, it came to
a stop outside Alex's window. With every ounce of effort, Alex turned his
head towards the sound- a rescuer? No, impossible. Nobody was up on this mountain, and nobody
could possibly have reached him here so quickly even if there had been. He supposed he should have been surprised,
yet almost from the moment that his eyes fell on the tall, handsome figure with the casual,
yet fashionably cut black suit, Alex accepted him for what he was. There was no shock, no confusion, for the
second time tonight, just a calm sense of acceptance. The man, probably somewhere in his mid thirties,
leaned down to peer in through the window. He said nothing as he casually observed the
extent of Alex's injuries. Satisfied, he laid a hand on Alex's shoulder. The grip was firm, but not painfully so, just
strong enough to communicate, “I am here with you. Things'll be alright.”. After a slight squeeze, the figure reached
inside his jacket and produced a pack of cigarettes, packing the tobacco with swift taps against
his palm before removing two cigarettes and offering one to Alex. Alex nodded his head, a very small motion
that exploded pain across his shattered body. “Nah, thank you, but that stuff will kill
you.” Alex smiled. The man paused for a moment, the ghost of
a smile showing on his face for just a moment before disappearing. Returning the offered cigarette, the man took
his own and lit it, giving Alex a good look at his face in the light of his cigarette
lighter. Alex had been right, the man appeared to be
somewhere in his mid to late thirties. Handsome, but not cover model so, just pleasing
to the eyes. He sported short hair, carefully combed and
perfectly neat, completely unaffected by the slight drizzle that still fell. The more Alex looked at him though, the less
he could remember about the man's exact features. It wasn't that they changed in any way, but
rather that he simply couldn't hold on to any details for more than a few seconds. “I'm dying, aren't I?”. The figure didn't speak, nor did it nod or
make any form of verbal or bodily communication. He simply looked, and Alex understood. Alex had never been particularly religious
or spiritual, but in that look he understood that there was a world beyond, and one that
he would very quickly be entering into. It was as if for the first time in his life,
he was able to probe that world, reality peeling away just enough to glimpse what was beyond. Twisting paths though planes of shadow and
light both, shuffling figures along each, and at the very center of it all- a light? No, a feeling. Love. Pulsing forth like the beating heart of it
all. The saints had their angels. The wicked, their demons. But everyone else in between the two, they
had him. A guide, someone to watch over them on the
final journey. Alex coughed. It was ending soon. The man took a drag from his cigarette and
removed a handkerchief from another hidden pocket, carefully dabbing away the blood around
Alex's chin, then returned to his silent smoking. His vision was beginning to dim around the
edges, the noises of the forest growing more and more distant. Alex knew it wouldn't be long now, but he
had just one final thing to do. As he always knew they would, his thoughts
returned to her here, at the end. Once more he turned his head towards the passenger's
side seat, pain exploding across his body with the motion. There, just on the far edge of the seat as
his phone, having miraculously survived the crash. It was no good though. Even if he'd been able to move his shattered
right arm, he could never reach it with his fading strength. The smoking man took one final pull of his
cigarette, putting it out on the side of the vehicle and pocketing the stub. Then he reached in through the broken driver's
side window, Alex catching a slight whiff of cigarette smoke blended with an unrecognizable,
but pleasant cologne. The man reached across Alex and grabbed the
phone, pulling back and looking down at Alex's shattered right hand. After a moment, he reached down once more
and put the phone in Alex's left hand. “Thank you.” The words were barely a whisper. He had to concentrate now, willing the pressing
darkness to part just long enough for one final task. The man once more placed his hand reassuringly
on Alex's shoulder, and the darkness parted slightly- just enough for what Alex needed
to do. He worked the phone awkwardly with his left
hand, gritting his teeth through the pain of broken fingers. Opening a new message, he scrolled down his
contacts... G...H...I...J... finally, K. He found her
name at last, then began typing out a message. I still think about you every time it rains. He moved his thumb to press send, but that's
when Alex's body failed him at last, the phone tumbling out of his grasp. But the man was there to catch it, moving
blindly fast he snatched the falling phone up and held it carefully up to Alex's yes
before pressing Send. He held the phone there for Alex to see through
his fading vision, until at last, Message Sent confirmed successful delivery. The rain began once more, temperamental as
it always is in the Pacific Northwest. Fat, heavy rain drops fell on the scene of
a terrible accident, the victim seemingly having died on impact. On his lap though lay his phone, and somewhere
far away and far below this dark mountain side, a message notification chirped on a
distant phone. SCP-4999 manifests to only one person at a
time and only when they are alone. All subjects to date have been in the final
stages of a terminal illness, suffering from a life threatening injury, or otherwise on
their deathbed. It also appears that all subjects have personalities
and lives that could be described as nondescript, insignificant, or otherwise unremarkable. No testing of SCP-4999 has been authorized
by the Foundation due to both the difficulty in predicting where it will appear as well
as the fact that observation seems to prevent the anomaly from appearing. There are also ethical concerns, since many
in the Foundation feel that SCP-4999 is providing an important service to humanity, even if
it is only for those on the margins of society, and it is debated whether this should be one
anomalous creature that is allowed to continue its existence, and its work, without interference.
