Lead Researcher Westrin during the initial survey of Provisional Site-4511.

Special Containment Procedures: The factory SCP-4511 resides in has been purchased by the Foundation and designated Provisional Site-4511. MTF Pi-1 ("City Slickers") have been assigned to manage containment and security of the object. All organic matter which has exited SCP-4511 is to be returned inside, regardless if living or deceased.

FILESERV NOTICE: AS OF WRITING, RESEARCH INTO SCP-4511 IS STILL ONGOING. SOME ERRORS MAY BE PRESENT.

Description: SCP-4511 is a large mechanical construct located in the basement of Danforth Meatpacking, a disused meatpacking factory in Chicago, USA. SCP-4511 externally resembles a domestic pig , measuring approximately 15m by 25m by 20m at its widest points, and is constructed of iron, which has become heavily oxidized following several years of improper maintenance. SCP-4511's primary entrance point is a large blast furnace in a constant state of activation, despite being disconnected from all fuel lines and ignition sources.

SCP-4511's left flank contains a thin 5cm-long slit that, upon certain conditions being met, will print an index card carrying a series of instructions.

Recovery Report:

The ██████████ factory was initially raided by Foundation agents embedded within the Chicago Police Department in response to reports of occult activity in the area. They encountered heavy resistance from a group of occult worshipers who had taken residence in the basement. MTF Epsilon-9 ("Fire Eaters") were dispatched to lend support to the Chicago Police Department. Of the forty-seven cultists that had previously inhabited the factory, only one survived their injuries for more than seventy-two hours. While the individual was treated for their injuries, Foundation personnel began studying SCP-4511. The following card was discovered left within SCP-4511.

A flock of my own. - SATISFIED

Every twelve hours, SCP-4511 produced another copy of the card. On 01-24-65, the last surviving victim of the raid on the factory was pronounced deceased. At the same time, SCP-4511 produced a new punch card.

The SCP-4511 Research Team requested to conduct experiments on the object, which was initially denied by Lead Researcher Westrin, but later overruled by Regional Director Caleb.

Test Logs:



Incident 4511.1: 8 hours following the reception of Test Report 10, Regional Director Caleb authorized MTF Epsilon-11 ("Nine-Tailed Fox") to raid Provisional Site-4511 after reports of possibly compromised site security. A transcript is attached.



MTF Body Camera Video Log Transcript

Date: 05-13-65

Task Force: MTF Epsilon-11 ("Nine-Tailed Fox")

Subject: Provisional Site-4511

Team Lead: ε-1

Team Members: ε-2, ε-3, ε-4

«BEGIN LOG»

ε-1: Safeties off. Sound off on my count. One.

ε-2: Two.

ε-3: Three.

ε-4: Four.

Team enters the factory single-file, guns raised.

ε-1: No sign of research team on the main production floor. Descending into basement.

Command: Proceed with caution.

Team crosses the factory floor to the freight elevator, and enter.

ε-1: Three, time to earn your keep.

ε-3: Yessir.

ε-3 moves to the electrical box of the elevator and attempts to pull it open. After a few seconds of pulling, he succeeds in opening the cover. The interior of the fuse box is revealed to have been sealed to the door with a layer of waxy material.

ε-4: Is that… fat?

ε-3: Ugh.

ε-2: Probably from years of disuse. I don't think anyone was cleaning it even when this place was still open. Three, can you get it working or do we have to throw ourselves down, lemmings-style?

ε-3: Yeah, I should be able to rig something up real quick. Gimme a second.

ε-3 spends several minutes interacting with the fuse box. With a lurch, the elevator begins slowly dropping.

ε-1: Well done. Unless they somehow moved the thing, SCP-4511 should be somewhere on this floor.

Command: Weapons free, though we'd prefer if at least a couple were brought in alive.

ε-1: Roger th-

The elevator reaches a stop and the overhead lights shut off.

ε-2: Three, was that you?

ε-3: I didn't touch the lighting fuses. That's something else.

ε-1: Doesn't matter. Four, get over here and help me open these doors.

ε-1 and ε-4 work together to open the cargo doors of the elevator. The entire lighting system for the lower floor is shut off.

ε-1: Flashlights on, they're creeping about here somewhere.

Team advances onto the catwalk and continue in silence for 2 minutes, until ε-2 pauses.

ε-2: Jesus fuck Three, did you piss yourself?

ε-3: What? No!

ε-1: We're walking in it.

ε-1 gestures to the catwalk floor, and the shallow puddle of yellow liquid covering it.

ε-4: Fuck me, I think I'm going to vomit…

ε-3: God, that's… who the fuck does that?

The team is interrupted by a drop splashing into the puddle. They raise their weapons and flashlights to reveal a fleshy growth attached to the ceiling, a hole from which is leaking the urine.

ε-1: (quietly) Keep moving. One of you guys, make sure you're looking at it.

The team continues forward, ε-4 bringing up the rear to keep a view on the growth. They continue in silence for another 4 minutes, descending a stairwell.

ε-1: We're reaching the basement floor.

Command: [Unintelligible]

ε-1: You're cutting off. Repeat, we're reaching the basement floor. Sound off. One.

ε-2: Two.

ε-3: Three.

Silence.

ε-1: Where the fuck is Four?

ε-3: I… she was just next to me!

ε-2: Do we go back to look for her?

ε-1: Yeah. Get ready.

The team retreats up three flights of stairs. ε-4 is splayed out on a landing, unconscious.

ε-1: Two!

ε-2: On it!

ε-2 begins applying first aid to ε-4, who has a large wound in her right thigh. ε-4 slowly regains consciousness.

ε-4: I don't know what happened. One minute I was behind you guys… and the next, I'm clutching my head here.

ε-1: Active hostile entity in the area. Possibly anti-memetic. Can you walk?

ε-4: N-no.

ε-1: Take your gun and shoot anything that isn't us. We'll be back. I swear.

The team returns down the stairwell, reaching the bottom and spreading out. The floor is largely covered in various furnaces.

ε-2: There's something up ahead.

The entrance to SCP-4511 is visible at the end of the room. A large pile sits next to it. Upon closer view, the pile is comprised of several white-coated bodies, all suffering from extreme exsanguination. A figure sits on the floor next to the pile.

ε-1: Hands up, now!

The figure stands up, wearing the uniform of a researcher. A large burn scar stretches across his right cheek. He is clutching something in his right hand.

ε-1: Whatever's in your hand, drop it.

Unknown Individual: Whatever you think you can do to me, it's nothing. Nothing compared to what it can do.

ε-2: What's "it"?

The individual gestures behind him, seemingly at SCP-4511 and the pile of corpses.

Unknown Individual: I took their oil to feed it and I'll take yours too…

ε-2: I'm giving you five seconds to sit the fuck down before I blow your brains out.

Unknown Individual: You can't win! If you kill me, it wins. And you'll never let it win, because you've had it so drilled into you that it is wron-

ε-2 terminates the individual with a single shot to the head. A rumbling sounds emanates from SCP-4511. ε-3 advances and inspects what the individual was holding: A small clump of bloody flesh and a scrap of paper.

ε-3: "Meat from those who seek to do in my faithful."

ε-3 picks up the piece of flesh, and throws it into SCP-4511. The flames roar.

ε-1: What the fuck? Why did you do that?!

ε-3: I don't know.

ε-2: Come on. We have to go get Four. She won't last long as she is.

The team reascends the main stairwell, to the location Four was sitting in. Four is unmoving, her gun beside her.

ε-2: FUCK!

ε-1: Check for a pulse!

ε-2 shakes his head.

ε-2: Nothing.

ε-3: Christ. One, what do we do?

ε-1 sighs.

ε-1: Only thing we can do. Head back up. We terminated the threat, and Director Calebs is outside with an emergency ResCon team.

ε-2: Let's go, then. We need backup to clean this place out.

«END LOG»