What would you trade in order to make your
deepest desires a reality? How much would you be willing to barter in
order to have what you want? Whether it’s money, love, fame, or power
that you crave, would you bargain your soul to have it? How about your memories? What about the life of another person? If these questions intrigue you, then boy,
do we have the deal of a lifetime for you! Well, not us, but rather a certain anomaly
who’s very interested in the art of the deal. We’ve all heard the old adage of a “deal
with the devil”, meaning a pact with someone potentially shady in order to get what you
want. Not only are you compromising your own principles
when you make a deal like this, you’re also running the risk of that deal coming back
to haunt you when it’s time to pay the devil his dues. And believe us, the devil always comes to
collect. Of course, you’ve never made a deal with
the actual Devil, and if you had, it’s likely you wouldn’t live long enough to warn people
not to make the same mistake. But we’ve all heard the legends: Beelzebub
appearing to those in dire need of help and offering them salvation. Shaking that outstretched, clawed hand normally
results in the desperate person getting what they need, but also agreeing to give Satan
something along the lines of their soul or firstborn child. Or sometimes something even worse. The point being, that dealing with the devil
often extracts a heavy price, and one you might not be so willing to pay if you could
see the terms more clearly. Which brings us to SCP-738, also known as
“The Devil’s Deal.” Although this SCP has no relation to the actual,
biblical Lord of Darkness himself - as far as we know, anyway - that nickname should
paint a very clear picture for you of how this entity operates. Kept in three linked containment chambers,
SCP-738 is guarded at all times by armed Foundation personnel when not in use. Strangely for an anomaly with such a terrifying
reputation, it appears as an elegant three-piece set of furniture, the kind you might find
in a fancy office belonging to a slick CEO. The set consists of a desk, one straight-backed
chair and another, more extravagant office chair styled to look like a throne, all featuring
brass detailing and exquisite velvet padding in a deep, royal purple. When kept apart, these objects seem to be
little more than just expensive pieces of office furniture. Examples of quality craftsmanship that would
likely cost you an arm and a leg to afford, but nothing overtly sinister or anomalous. Until, that is, the three pieces are put together,
and you take a seat. If someone sits down opposite the throne,
with the desk between them, then they had best be ready to bargain, because once you
sit down, you will find yourself faced with an anomalous entity across from you in the
throne. While many of the D-Classes the Foundation
have placed before this entity have described it as being “charming”, or even “seductive”,
descriptions of the entity’s appearance varies wildly between subjects. In fact, it would seem that the entity deliberately
appears differently to everyone that sees it - their very own personalized devil with
which to strike a deal. After all, this business is personal. Additionally, the entity cannot be observed
by anyone except for those sitting in the anomalous chair of SCP-738. For anyone not sitting in the special chair,
the most they’ll see of the entity is the throne shifting as it leans backwards or sits
up. It isn’t interested in being seen by anyone
who isn’t part of the transaction. This entity is clearly quite the negotiator,
and doesn’t waste any time in getting to the meat of the conversation. During tests by the Foundation, recordings
have been made of the entity’s voice, making all manner of enticing offers and promises
to whomever is sitting before it. The entity will produce parchment from the
desk, writing up what looks to be a contract with a quill and ink pot. If whoever is sitting in the opposite chair
makes a formal request to the entity, it will cease its previous barrage of offers and take
a brief pause, before suggesting a price. During their first attempt to gauge the nature
and effects of SCP-738, the Foundation sent one of its researchers into a room containing
the desk, throne, and chair. According to his report, he saw a man sitting
behind the desk, wearing a sharp, red and gold colored business suit. The entity immediately bombarded the man with
potential deals they could strike, offering him greater recognition and respect for his
research, the love of the woman the man wanted, and even offered him the chance to join the
O5 Council. Refusing to be coerced into any of these deals,
the researcher left the room, and seemed to suffer no adverse effects for his refusal. Since this initial incident, when testing
the behavior and effects of SCP-738, the Foundation primarily uses D-Class personnel. As we all know by now, these personnel are
considered disposable, having been recruited from prisons around the world, and ones testing
SCP-738 are fitted with an explosive collar… just in case. In one instance, one of these Class-D personnel
placed before the SCP-738 entity reported that this time it had taken on the appearance
of a beautiful, seductive woman. During the initial proposals made by the SCP-738
entity, the inmate was offered his freedom. The price of freedom is often high, but the
Class-D may not have been expecting the price to be the death of his best friend. But the inmate agreed to the terms of the
deal he’d been offered, and vanished shortly after. Five hours later though, he was recaptured
by Foundation personnel. When another member of Class-D personnel,
a non-native English speaker, sat down to bargain with SCP-738, the entity communicated
with him in his first language. Their deal, while similar to the previous
test, used more specific wording. The Class-D inmate asked for the power to
never be held in a cell again, rather than just “for freedom.” The price asked for by the SCP-738 entity
this time was every memory of the man’s mother. After he accepted, an incident broke out which
resulted in the inmate’s death, as well as that of twelve Foundation guards. The next test the Foundation conducted into
the effects of SCP-738 involved yet another Class-D, this time utilizing an inmate with
dyslexia and a mental disability, who reported that the entity appeared to take the form
of a large pink rabbit. Once again adapting to the subject before
it, the entity drew crude pictograms on its parchment, trying to convey a deal to the
latest Class-D to sit across the desk from it. There were a few words scattered about the
page in English, but mostly unrelated insults aimed at the inmate’s intelligence, or questioning
the man’s understanding of the deal the entity was proposing. The entity offered the man a Sloppy Joe, stating
the price to be ”Mopsy”, the name given to a toy that the inmate had smuggled into
the Foundation and been allowed to keep. Upon accepting the deal, a fine china plate
appeared in front of the man, with the promised sandwich upon it. The man quickly finished the food that the
entity had provided, only to become distressed when he realized that Mopsy had vanished. Shortly after the test had concluded, Foundation
staff issued the Class-D with another toy, identical to the one that had been bargained
away from him. However, as soon as he named the new toy Mopsy,
it too disappeared, once again causing the inmate a great deal of emotional distress. Further testing found that there was little
that could damage the furniture of SCP-738. Foundation researchers even tried exposing
it to explosives, to no effect. Despite appearing to be crafted from mahogany,
neither the desk nor the chairs were able to catch fire and burn. Gunshots did not tear through the woodwork
as one would expect, and even a mechanical wood chipper did nothing to cause even the
slightest of damage. There was however, one thing that did. When directly attacking the desk with an axe,
a single gash was left scored into the mahogany surface by the bladed head. This did, unfortunately, lead to the death
of the personnel wielding said axe, and afterwards the mark left in the desk began gradually
healing. Changing their approach, the Foundation ceased
sending Class-D personnel to make deals with whatever devil appeared sitting at the desk. Instead, a researcher took the seat opposite,
and before the entity began its usual stream of offers to fulfill deep desires, the researcher
asked a simple question. “What are you?” The SCP-738 entity took the form of a huge
snake, and answered “I'm sorry. It's against policy to divulge personal details. But may I interest you in…” It is unknown what the entity offered the
researcher, but the session was called to be halted shortly after, and the Foundation
researcher was institutionalized pending psychiatric review. The final test of SCP-738 involved a Mr. Sheldon
Katz, senior counsel of the Foundation’s legal department, who presented the entity
with a fully, legally watertight document stating he was not acting on behalf of the
SCP Foundation, and was testing SCP-738 of his own free agency. Mr Katz reported that, in this instance, the
SCP-738 entity assumed the form of a professor who had taught Sheldon during his first year
of law school, but didn’t include any information as to what sort of deal the entity had offered
him. After forty-one hours of debate, during which
a nine-hundred-page long agreement between him and SCP-738 was drafted, Mr Katz eventually
passed out from sheer, overwhelming exhaustion. A red leather envelope was found on him when
he was removed from the testing room, containing a handwritten note and smelling heavily of
sulfur. The note simply read “Please come back any
time. I haven't had so much fun in years.” The incidents involving SCP-738 all follow
a strikingly similar pattern. After adjusting to the person before it, both
appearing in a form specific to them, and communicating with them in a such way that
they will best understand, the SCP-738 entity will attempt to entice their latest emptor
with their deepest desires. When the person opposite them makes a request,
the entity brings up the question of price. While they can be negotiated with, it will
insist that the price be of “equal value” to what is being requested. Like for like, perhaps even a soul for a soul. It is worth noting that the entity sat in
the throne will not always follow through on deals if they determine the person making
the request ”does not want the object enough”, or if they request an object for someone else
as a way of trying to dodge paying the full price. It seems that this entity, being the bargainer
that it is, does not indulge requests that are made to affect other people, or for items
that can be easily passed on to others. Accepting a deal with whatever devil appears
across that desk from you will make your wish come true. Isn’t that how deals with the devil always
go? After all, you are certain to get whatever
you ask for, anything your heart desires, if you’re willing to pay the right price
for it. Just make sure that you read the fine print
of that agreement before you sign, because the price won’t always be something you’re
willing to pay. Now check out “SCP-1879 - Indoor Salesman”
and “SCP-662 - Butler’s Hand Bell” for more anomalies that’ll make you an offer
you can’t refuse.
