A scientist sits in his lab working on an
experiment when the door suddenly opens and a tall, hard-nosed man enters. The scientist hastily stands up and salutes
the General who oversees the scientist’s entire program. The General dispenses with formalities and
tells the scientist that he’s being assigned to something new. Before the scientist can even ask what it
is he’ll be working on, the General gives a small wave of his hand and two soldiers
appear in the doorway. They are each holding the side of a large
metal box, and from the strained expression on their faces, it’s clear that the box
is very heavy. They set the box down on the scientist’s
heavy wooden desk with a loud thud before stepping away from it. The scientist looks over the bulky, lead case
that’s been brought to him, no idea of what could be waiting inside. “Be very careful with this” the General
says, before handing a folder full of papers to the scientist. The scientist, unsure of how to respond, moves
his hand to salute the General, but he has already turned on his heel and started to
exit the small lab, followed closely behind by the two soldiers. The scientist looks over the folder that was
given to him. There’s nothing on the cover so he opens
it and starts looking inside, skimming over the long, dry paragraphs that say nothing
at all and seem to be included in every government report for some reason. Ah, there it is. Contents. One 6.2 kilogram sphere of… Plutonium 239. Plutonium 239?! He’s been doing research in this Army run
research lab for some time and knows exactly what this is. A sphere of plutonium 239 can only be one
thing… a core for a new atomic bomb. Two were already dropped on the cities of
Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and their never before seen power caused death and destruction on
a truly horrendous level. But they had also helped to put an end to
the second world war, potentially saving the lives of thousands or even millions more. And no matter what moral questions he had
about it, this was his job, and as an expert in physics and chemistry, his research would
potentially help put a stop to fighting in the future. After all, no one would dare go to war when
they knew their opponent had weapons that could cause devastation on this scale, right? The scientist pours over the typewritten reports,
reading each and every handwritten note in the margins. As he reads through them, he sees warnings
about the experiments from the report’s unnamed author. There are references to how slim the safety
margins are when handling the material for testing. Since the core is intended to be used in a
new nuclear weapon, it needs to be right on the edge of supercriticality, the point where
fissile material undergoes a chain reaction that is key to nuclear detonations. The report then describes an experiment where
the core was to be surrounded with bricks made of tungsten carbide that would act as
a mirror of sorts, bouncing neutrons back at the core, which would knock loose other
neutrons. The experiment was to be stopped before the
core went supercritical, but when the scientist turns the page to view the results he finds…
nothing. There’s no more pages in the folder. The scientist had heard rumors about these
types of experiments. Tickling the dragon’s tail they called it. But where were the rest of the reports? Was this really the last experiment that was
done? He sees at the top of the page that this last
experiment was performed over a year ago. Just then the scientist notices someone walking
by in the hall. It’s the general! He runs out into the hallway waving the report
at him. “General, general!” The general stops and turns around, clearly
annoyed at being intercepted while on the way from one important meeting to another. “General, what happened in the last experiment?” The General somehow looks even more annoyed
by the question. “Don’t worry about it” he barks back
at the scientist. “His time on the project was finished. It’s yours now.” And with that, the general leaves the scientist
standing in the hall with his incomplete file. Days pass and the scientist receives additional
orders on what types of experiments he should be carrying out. All of them are designed to guarantee that
the core of plutonium will be suitable for use in a new weapon. For the latest test, he’s performing an
experiment not dissimilar to the last one described in the report, but instead of using
tungsten carbide bricks to reflect neutrons back at the core and achieve criticality,
a beryllium dome had been created which is to be lowered down over the sphere of plutonium. As he lowers the dome, he knows that if it
were to close completely, it would cause the core to go supercritical in an instant. In order to prevent this, he uses a screwdriver
to prop up one side of the dome, allowing just enough neutrons to escape so that the
core can maintain its stability. As he lowers the dome just a small amount
more, he starts to hear something. It’s a faint noise at first, but gradually
grows more and more audible. Radioactivity produces no sound, so the scientist
is confused, especially since it sounds like the noise is coming from inside the dome. But surely that’s impossible. There were no processes happening within that
should be creating any sort of noise. The scientist bends down and lifts up the
edge of the dome ever so slightly more, just enough so that he can peek inside. As he does, the sound grows louder. He looks right into the core of plutonium
239 and sees something. There is movement on the sphere. He knows this is impossible, but he can see
them with his own eyes, images dancing on the surface of the plutonium sphere. They were faces, unnatural faces, contorted
and twisted in pain. He can see now that these are the source of
the sound he was hearing, because the faces… are screaming. The scientist jumps back and the screwdriver
slips away from the edge of the beryllium dome, allowing it to fall and completely cover
the plutonium. Out in the hallway, a security guard covers
his eyes, momentarily blinded by the flash of intense, blue light. When his vision returns, he runs into the
laboratory it came from. The exposed sphere of plutonium sits on the
desk, and the security guard looks up to see that the dome that once covered it has been
embedded into the ceiling. He hears a moan come from the other side of
the desk and rushes around to help the scientist, but when he looks down at the ground he doesn’t
see a man. Lying there on the floor is a charred and
bloody body, the small amount of skin and flesh that is left sloughing off his body. The scientist reaches towards him with a skeletal
hand, emitting one final groan before collapsing. Nuclear weapons have claimed many lives, not
just those who suffered directly from their overwhelming destructive energy or the subsequent
residual radiation known as fallout, but many of those who researched and developed the
science and technology behind them also became victims of their incredible, almost otherworldly
power. Today’s anomaly is an example of exactly
that, combining the astonishing power of nuclear weapons with the world of the supernatural. This is SCP-095-FR… The Demon Core. SCP-095-FR, is a 6.2 kilogram sphere, 89 millimeters
in diameter that is composed entirely of plutonium 239. Despite at one point seeming to be a normal
sphere of the plutonium isotope, SCP-095-FR now seems to be in a permanent self-sustaining
state of criticality. This results in a near constant emission of
alpha radiation which is powerful enough to damage any electrical circuits within a 20
meter radius. The sphere’s danger grows the closer you
get to it too. Within a 10 meter radius, any living tissue
will become extremely irradiated, leading to radiation sickness, while denser materials
like metal or bone will themselves become extremely radioactive. The plutonium sphere is somehow able to maintain
a consistent mass despite its state which should lead to a decrease in overall mass. It’s theorized that it may be undergoing
some kind of regenerative process, though it’s been impossible to determine just how
this might be occurring. SCP-095-FR was recovered from the seafloor
near Bikini Atoll, which was the site of a series of nuclear weapon tests by the United
States government known as Operation Crossroad. These and later tests including the Castle
Bravo test resulted in the island chain becoming extremely irradiated, and many of the island's
residents soon showed signs of acute radiation syndrome leading to much of the indiginous
population being forced to relocate. Following the Operation Crossroad test, an
anomalously high source of radiation was detected in the sea. Though records are incomplete, it appears
that the core of plutonium that had been responsible for the deaths of multiple scientists had
somehow ended up on the ocean floor. Whether it got there due to being part of
a failed bomb detonation, or if it somehow appeared there by other, more anomalous means
is unknown. But regardless of how it got there, the attempted
recovery of the object led to the deaths of several American servicemembers from radiation
related illnesses, which the SCP Foundation soon learned of. After assisting in the retrieval of the sphere,
the plutonium was relinquished to the Foundation’s custody for containment. The SCP-095-FR sphere was placed under the
purview of the French Branch of the SCP Foundation, owing to their having a readily available
site for containment, where the sphere was stored in a lead lined, radiation blocking
safe and classified as Euclid. Only D-Class were permitted to transport and
handle the plutonium since its effects amounted to a death sentence for anyone who got too
close. They were also responsible for transferring
the sphere to a new safe every six months due to the damage it was causing them from
constant bombardment of radiation. All of these containment procedures would
have to be changed though, following the events of January 7th, 2015. On that day, sixty-nine years after it first
took the lives of two scientists at the Los Alamos laboratory, and despite it being a
scientific impossibility, the Demon Core suddenly went supercritical all on its own. The resulting explosion was estimated to be
roughly thirty-three kilotons, or about twice the power of the atomic bombs that had been
detonated over Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Nearly the entire site housing SCP-095-FR
was destroyed along with fourteen other Safe and Euclid class anomalies, and in the end,
the death count totalled 285, with casualties coming from either the blast itself, the collapse
of structures on the site, or from the resulting radiation poisoning. Incredibly, the sphere itself survived the
explosion, showing no signs that it had detonated with the force of a nuclear weapon when it
was recovered from the site’s wreckage. Foundation researchers studying the Demon
Core determined that it was likely to explode again in roughly fifty years, and that the
only discernible difference measured in the core before it suddenly went supercritical
and destroyed the Foundation site was a sudden spike in radiation. Foundation scientists have no idea how the
Demon Core survived, or how it detonated without warning. Some theorize that it may exist in some kind
of time loop, which would potentially explain its explosion-regeneration cycle, and that
it is possible the core has actually detonated several times before entering into Foundation
custody. But perhaps the bigger question when it comes
to the Demon Core and why it has become such a dangerous object… is why. Is there something contained within this seemingly
cursed sphere of plutonium? Is a part of those who have been impacted
by the quest to harness the power of atomic energy somehow contained within? Now desperate to get out and unleash their
anger on the world? Research continues, but due to the extreme
danger that comes from working with the anomaly, it’s likely these questions will remain
unanswered for some time. Following the destruction of the Foundation
site, SCP-095-FR was reclassified to Keter, and moved to an underground bunker designed
to withstand an explosion equivalent to a standard atomic bomb, which it is hoped will
be enough to contain the blast that is almost inevitably going to happen again. It’s a sobering thought, even for those
of us who work with and around anomalies on a daily basis, to be reminded of the incredible
destructive power of nuclear weapons. Some of the most feared and deadly anomalies
contained by the SCP Foundation pale in comparison to the carnage that we’ve inflicted on ourselves,
and it's important to remember that sometimes the true demons are found inside of us. Now go and watch another entry from the files
of Dr. Bob, like SCP-767 Crime Scene Photographs, for another anomalous object with a strange
and deadly secret. 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.
