We are the Foundation. We secure, we contain, we protect. Even the newest of recruits know those words by heart. The Foundation is Earth's first line of defense against the anomalous. We find the things that should not be and capture them, study them, learn from them. We discover all that we can in order to make the world a safer place. But if you go through our main list of SCPs, you might notice a strange pattern. Each and every object we have in containment is interesting. Every one has some incredible ability or some captivating story, something that truly makes it special. But what are the chances of that? Why don't we have a twelve-foot-long, acid-spewing turtle? Or what about a sentient plant that enjoys the taste of human flesh? Why don't we have any generic monsters, the kind we read about in bad horror novels? The truth is, we do. Or at least, that's what they tell us. A long time ago, we kept these monsters in regular containment. We captured the acid turtle, the flesh-eating plant, and thousands more just like them. We housed them in our sites, in steel-and-concrete cages. We studied them like we would any other object. We devoted countless hours and millions of dollars to keeping them contained. But at some point, we realized something. Those monsters were far too dangerous, and not nearly interesting enough. We poured in time and money, but we received nothing. Yes, every single one of them broke well-established laws of physics and chemistry and biology. But that was it. None of them were special. They were just a little weirder and a little scarier than what we were used to. So one day, all the O5s got together for a long and important meeting, and at the end it was decided that these monsters were not worth what we were investing in them. They took far too much and gave back far too little. The Foundation may seem like some supernatural, godly force, but at the end of the day we still have bills to pay, and these creatures simply weren't paying up. So what were we going to do with thousands upon thousands of these things? Why, destroy them, of course. Nobody was very happy with this plan. After all, we exist to contain, not kill. We exist to create knowledge, not destroy it. We should be keeping everything in a cage, just in case another one pops up. In fact, the opposition to this plan was so great that after just two months and twelve destroyed SCPs, the entire project was shut down and we went back to the good old days of containing each and every object we found. But I've done some digging of my own over the past few years, and I've noticed some interesting things. If you go through our site list, we have a few, like 124 and 57 that are listed as being for "containment of dangerous anomalies". When we encounter something too dangerous to contain, but too useless to study, we're supposed to send in a transfer request. Then it goes through some paperwork, and few days later the SCP is gone, sent off to one of these specialized containment facilities. Then after a few months, the file for that SCP mysteriously disappears. And this isn't just a few isolated incidents, either. Within the past five years, at least fifty SCPs that I've been assigned to have been transferred and erased like this. That got me thinking. What exactly was happening to these SCPs that we had sworn so long ago to secure, contain, and protect? Over the past year, I pulled a few strings and called in some favors, and despite being only a level 3 researcher, I think I've figured this all out. It turns out that the O5s never stopped destroying SCPs. They just amnesticized everyone who didn't need to know, and wrapped the thing up in so many layers that nobody would ever realize that this project even existed. These "containment" facilities don't contain anything but a big room with reinforced walls and a lot of weapons. When the SCPs get sent in for "containment", it's really for destruction. They throw the SCPs in, bring out all their big guns, and a few hours later whatever's left get tossed into the incinerator or the acid bath. Then after a while, the containment procedures are "lost", and the SCP fades from existence forever. And when a new one comes in, it's just rinse and repeat. Now, why am I telling you? Why would I risk my career and my life to send you this message? Why would I dig so deep into one of the Foundation's biggest secrets, and then just throw my findings into the crowd? Well, I'm really not risking much. By the time you receive this letter, I will have disappeared. I've contacted certain individuals, and paid them to completely wipe me from existence. I no longer exist in any records - government, Foundation, or otherwise. If I'm lucky, they'll never find me. If I'm not, I'll at least be able to hide for five or ten years. But that doesn't quite answer the question of "why". I'm doing all this because I believe you deserve to know. I believe we all deserve to know. The Foundation is not some deity, it is not some power that has existed since time immemorial. The Foundation is just as human as the hundreds of thousands of people staffing its facilities, and so it is flawed. But if we are flawed, we deserve to know. After all, acceptance the first step on the road to recovery. Maybe they'll try to amnesticize you. But I've sent this letter to everyone I could, and they can't amnesticize all of them. People know now, and nothing the O5s do will change that. The veil has been torn down, the secrets exposed. And the bell cannot be unrung. Perhaps after reading this you've lost faith in the Foundation, come to regard them as cruel and secretive, keeping secrets from the very people whose hard work they rely on. But remember that we are an organization dedicated to lying to the world, and so we must inevitably lie to each other as well. This does not make us evil. We are still the Foundation. We still secure, contain, and protect. But sometimes, we must destroy.

Somewhere inside an underground secure facility along the Floridan coast, the six men and women of MTF Psi-12, division 114 stood around a table. The one at the head of the table spoke. "So, guys. Here's the deal. Over the past three months, we've had eighteen different cases of people in this area reporting some form or other of memory loss." He gestured to the map spread across the table, which had been marked with a cluster of red dots. "All these cases are real close together, as you can see. The techies think it's anomalous, which is why we're all gathered here right now. They're pretty sure that whatever's causing it is originating from somewhere in this building." He pointed at a spot on the map, and the others leaned in closer to study it. "It's an old apartment, twelve stories. Abandoned seven years ago due to structural concerns but never demolished. Intelligence says that there are no residents, permanent or temporary, at this time. Our job is to go in, do a sweep, and clean up the anomaly - if there is one. Pretty standard stuff." The five others nodded, and their leader nodded back at them. "Alright, we're heading out from Bay Four in 45 minutes. Here's the panic phrases for this mission. Get prepping." He handed each of them a folded sheet of paper, and the group dispersed. At her locker, Cassandra Perrin unfolded the sheet of paper. She stared at the seemingly random mess of scribbles printed on it, and found a phrase forming in her mind. Red red red, scarlet crimson red. As she prepared her gear, she whispered the phrase to herself, letting the words roll around her tongue, feeling them settle themselves somewhere deep inside her mind. She thought back to her orientation, to the day she was first admitted into Psi-12. "Now, as a member of Psi-12, you will forget things. This is an unavoidable part of your job. You will forget the name of your childhood pet, or your laptop's password, or how to fire a gun. You will get used to forgetting things. Or maybe you won't, because you'll forget that you've forgotten these things before. But there is one thing you won't forget unless we let you, and that's your panic phrase. Before each mission, we will give you a sheet of paper. That paper will be covered in memes, and it will ingrain a phrase into your mind. You will not be able to forget this phrase until you complete the mission and we give you the counter-meme. Your panic phrase is your one guaranteed anchor to reality. It is unchanging and unwavering in the face of whatever antimemetic anomalies you face." In her seven months at Psi-12, Perrin had never needed to use her panic phrase a single time. She hoped this streak of excellent fortune would continue. "Red red red, scarlet crimson red", she whispered again. She double-checked her equipment and headed to Bay Four. Half an hour later, MTF Psi-12, division 114 stood outside an old apartment building. Their leader spoke again. "Alright, team. There are twelve floors and six of us. I'm thinking we split into pairs of two and take four floors each. That sound good?" The others murmured their assent. "Okay. Phelps and Chen, you take the first four. I'll take five through eight with Lorenzo. Perrin and Zhukov, you're on nine through twelve. We're on Alert Level One for now, check-ins every twenty minutes. Let's get going." And without a further word, the six entered the building. Several minutes later, Perrin and Zhukov arrived at the ninth floor of the building. "How do you want to do this, Zhukov? I think we should stay on the same floor, just to be safe." Zhukov nodded. "You take left rooms, I take right rooms." "Sounds good to me." Perrin turned towards her first room, and saw Zhukov turn towards his. The mission began uneventfully. The rooms were abandoned and decaying, and Perrin went through room after room with no sign of anything unusual. She and Zhukov had almost finished searching the ninth floor when the communicator buzzed against her cheek. "Alright, check-in number one. Chen." "Present." "Lorenzo." "Here." "Phelps." "Yup." "Perrin." "Reporting in." "Smith - that's me. Zhukov." "Da." "All six accounted for. Nothing of note discovered so far. Next check-in still in twenty minutes." The next check-in passed without incident, and so did the third. By this point, Perrin and Zhukov had searched through the ninth, tenth, and eleventh with no interesting discoveries. As they started on the twelfth, Perrin felt her communicator buzz again. "Check-in number four. Chen." "Still present." "Lorenzo." "Here." "Phelps." "Yeah." "Perrin." "Reporting in." "Smith - I'm good. All five accounted for. Next one's in twenty minutes again." Wait a second. "Sir, did you just say 'all five'?" "Yes. Is something wrong, Perrin?" Perrin could hear the confusion in her captain's voice. She felt the perspiration forming on her brow. There were six of them. Right? "Red red red, scarlet crimson red." Smith's tone hardened immediately. "What is it?" "There were six of us, sir. We had one more person, Anton Zhukov." "Okay. Okay, does anybody else remember a Zhukov?" "I don't, but Psi-12 divisions 100 through 299 are teams of six. There's no way we'd only have five." "We have five because Harkins retired last week. They said we'd be getting a new guy before the end of the month." And as Chen and Phelps began to argue, Perrin began to worry. This was not good. This was definitely not good. None of their stories agreed with each other. Which one of them was wrong? "Quiet down." Smith's voice came through the comm again. "Something is wrong here. I'm calling Alert Level Three until we figure out what, but keep searching the rooms in the meantime. Check-ins are every five minutes, and keep your partner in sight at all times. Perrin, is there anyone else on your floor?" Perrin stepped into the hallway and looked around. "Nobody, sir. What should I do?" "Head downstairs and group up with us. Phelps and I are on the seventh floor, but we'll be moving up to the eighth soon." "Understood, sir." And as she turned around towards the stairwell, she noticed something odd. She blinked. It was still there. She rubbed her eyes and blinked again. It didn't disappear. She quietly swore to herself. "Red red red, scarlet crimson red." "What's wrong, Perrin?" "There are twelve floors to this building, right? And the only roof access is through a maintenance ladder?" "That sounds right, but let me check." Perrin heard the sound of papers rustling through the comm. "Yeah, that's definitely right. Twelve floors. Why?" "I'm on the twelfth floor right now, and there's a staircase going up." "Ah, shit. Just come on down, Perrins. We can investigate there later once we've grouped up." "Yessir." And as she opened the door to the stairs down, she heard a sound. She wasn't sure what it was, but something made that sound, and it wasn't her. "Sir? I just heard something." "Fuck. Do you know what it was?" "No idea, sir." "Alright. Stay calm, Perrin. I need you to stay calm and get down here as quick as you can. Don't stop for anything. Phelps and I are coming up to meet you." "Okay." She heard another sound behind her. And again. Footsteps, she realized. This was the sound of footsteps. She turned around. There was a man standing there. Was it a man? Maybe it was a woman. It didn't look like either - or rather, it looked like both. As she stared, she saw it flicker through a hundreds thousand forms. "Sir, there's something here with me. I… I think it's a person." "What do you mean, you think?" "I don't know, sir. I can't tell what it looks like. Its face keeps changing." "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Okay, stay put, Perrin. Phelps and I are coming. Don't move, and whatever you do, do not engage the entity." "Ye- yes sir." As Perrin struggled to get the words out of her mouth, she decided that she probably couldn't move even if she tried. She continued to stare at the thing in front of her, mesmerized by its flickering appearance. Stop it, whispered some voice deep inside her head. This situation is bad. That thing is bad. "But what can I do?", she whispered back. Remember, Cassandra. Remember what is real. Anchor yourself. "Red red… red… uh…" And once again, she thought back to her orientation for MTF Psi-12. "What happens if we do forget our panic phrase?", asked one of the agents. The lecturer thought for a moment before replying. "If you ever forget your panic phrase, start praying. Because whatever you're up against is way above your pay grade." "Our Father who art in heaven…" The thing took a step forward. Then two. Three. "Perrin? What's going on?" "…hallowed be thy name." It was only five steps away now. "Perrin? Perrin, talk to me!" "Thy kingdom come." It streched its hand out towards Perrin's face. "Perrin!" "Thy will be done…" Everything went black. When Perrin opened here eyes, there was nothing in front of her. Of course there was nothing. There never was anything there in the first place. She heard footsteps behind her, and turned around to see Smith and Phelps come up the stairs. "Is everything okay, Perrin?" "Yes sir. I've finished searching the top floors, and there's nothing unusual to report." "Alright, we're good to go then. Let's head home." And soon, the five members of MTF Psi-12, division 114 had left the thirteen-story apartment behind, with another uneventful mission completed.

Item #: SCP-RRRR Object Class: Safe Special Containment Procedures: One copy of SCP-RRRR is to be stored on a secure Foundation server. Any experiments involving SCP-RRRR require the approval of a level 3 personnel. Foundation web crawlers are to search for and delete any instances of SCP-RRRR found. Any personnel involved in verifying the web crawlers' results must have a minimum of class-3C cognitohazard training. Foundation web crawlers are also to search the Internet for individuals who may be SCP-RRRR-1B or -1C instances. Foundation agents are then to covertly question the identified targets. If the targets are found to be -1B or -1C instances, agents are to meet with and amnesticize the targets, following the guidelines in Document RRRR-1. Any Foundation personnel who become -1B or -1C instances are to be given the same amnestic treatment. Description: SCP-RRRR is an edited version of the ████ company's music video for the song Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley. SCP-RRRR appears identical to the original video, but in fact contains several audio and video cognitohazards. When any subject with functioning hearing and sight views and listens to the video for more than ten seconds, they become an instance of SCP-RRRR-1. SCP-RRRR-1 instances possess an anomalous effect that causes certain media near the instance to play SCP-RRRR instead of its original contents. There are three different types of SCP-RRRR-1: SCP-RRRR-1A. The most common type of SCP-RRRR-1, making up almost 99% of individuals who have viewed SCP-RRRR.

The most common type of SCP-RRRR-1, making up almost 99% of individuals who have viewed SCP-RRRR. SCP-RRRR-1B. Significantly rarer than -1A, SCP-RRRR-1B instances make up roughly 1% of individuals who have viewed SCP-RRRR.

Significantly rarer than -1A, SCP-RRRR-1B instances make up roughly 1% of individuals who have viewed SCP-RRRR. SCP-RRRR-1B. The rarest of the three types, consisting of less than 0.1% of individuals who have viewed SCP-RRRR.

Item #: SCP-NNNN Object Class: Safe Special Containment Procedures: SCP-NNNN is contained in Standard Containment Chamber C-145 of Site-97. Further containment procedures may be added or removed at the discretion of Special Clearance 3/NNNN personnel, depending on planned experiments. Only SC-3/NNNN personnel may interact with SCP-NNNN. Any personnel wishing to request 3/NNNN clearance should contact SCP-NNNN's current head researcher, and are encouraged to do so. 3/NNNN clearance may be granted with the approval of SCP-NNNN's head researcher and at least three other SC-3/NNNN personnel. At any given time, the Foundation must have a minimum of 50 SC-3/NNNN personnel, at least 15 of whom must reside at Site-97. SC-3/NNNN personnel may re-assign the designation of SCP-NNNN following a successful four-fifths majority vote. Following this, any extraneous objects discovered in the containment chamber must be removed and disposed of as appropriate. This action is designated Procedure NNNN-α, and the target of the re-designation is referred to as the target object. Before concluding each experiment, researchers must perform Procedure NNNN-α on a safe object . Description: SCP-NNNN is SCP-NNNN. SCP-NNNN can only be referred to as SCP-NNNN, and cannot be described in any way except by the designation of SCP-NNNN. However, SCP-NNNN's effects can be described. What happens when Procedure NNNN-α is performed is unknown, as SCP-NNNN is and has always been SCP-NNNN by definition. Each time Procedure NNNN-α is attempted, an unidentified object will manifest in SCP-NNNN's containment chamber. Objects produced in this manner vary greatly in all characteristics, but have generally been inanimate and harmless. Since February 12, 2018, every second object discovered after an attempted Procedure NNNN-α has been a soft yellow sphere roughly 7cm in diameter, encircled by a white line marking. These objects have collectively been designated SCP-NNNN-1, though they do not appear to be anomalous in and of themselves. The significance of these occurrences is currently unknown. Experiments regarding SCP-NNNN suffer from informational corruption. No records, mental or physical, remain of any target objects of Procedure NNNN-α. Personnel recall performing the recorded experiments, but do not remember what the target objects were. Logs of the experiments have illegible scribbles in place of the objects' descriptions. No information has been found in any Foundation logs regarding any items that could possibly be target objects. This is believed to be a side effect of SCP-NNNN's properties, but the exact mechanism is unknown. Due to this effect, there is no proof that any of the experiments recorded were successful. It is assumed, but not provable, that the manifestation of objects within SCP-NNNN's containment chamber is an indication of a successful Procedure NNNN-α. Addendum 1 - Experiment log excerpts: Expand logs Collapse logs Date: 12-05-2018

Experiment: Procedure NNNN-α is to be performed targeting ΰ͍̟̦̎̔͠Ȼ̢̩̼͍̰̀͛î̫͒̅͗ͣАͫ̈́͐͗̚͏͖̪͇̜͔͚͎ž̤ͩ̋̑͊ͧͩ͑߉͙̱̗͕ũ̓҉2̢̇ͭ̆̌.

Result: Presumably successful, as an instance of SCP-NNNN-1 was produced. After performing Procedure NNNN-α on the designated safe object, a spherical red object roughly 7cm in diameter was produced. The object was found to be composed largely of water and fruit-based sugars and starches, and was safely disposed of in the site's incinerator. Date: 08-02-2019

Experiment: A D-class personnel with no prior knowledge of SCP-NNNN is to be brought into SCP-NNNN's containment chamber and questioned about SCP-NNNN.

Result: D-154399 correctly identified SCP-NNNN as SCP-NNNN. When questioned, she was unable to provide further information, but repeatedly insisted that SCP-NNNN was indeed SCP-NNNN. Date: 12-03-2019

Experiment: Procedure NNNN-α is to be performed targeting Ί͎̖͍̻͉̬̩ͦģ́̓ͧ̍͋̋͒ͪŹͫ̗͙̻̪̹̊͗̍ͦτ̼̰̥̯̙̳̯̆ͦ͢Á͍̲͔Ȱ͚͙͈̻̞̮¾̩ͦͫ͐͒͆̔ό͔̝̩̳̪̜̏́ƞ̤̝͖͓͕͇ͮ͂̏̅͑ͯ̾Ǵ̱̅͛ɂ̤̗̙̈͡Ǎ̘͕̠̻͕̞͛Ή͚̝̹͜. After performing Procedure NNNN-α on the designated safe object, a D-class personnel with no prior knowledge of SCP-NNNN is to interact with the object produced.

Result: Presumably successful, as an instance of SCP-NNNN-1 was produced. After performing Procedure NNNN-α on the designated safe object, a 1.7m tall humanoid entity was produced and immediately restrained. D-173565 was asked to attempt conversation with the entity. D-173565 expressed surprise and confusion regarding the entity and questioned it about itself. The entity grew agitated after failing to answer the questions, and was shot by a guard. This appeared to terminate the entity, and it was incinerated without incident. Date: 22-05-2019 (scheduled)

Experiment: Procedure NNNN-α is to be performed targeting a potted fern.

Result: N/A Addendum 2 - Audio Log for Experiment 12-03-2019: Show audio log transcript Hide audio log transcript

Item #: SCP-SSSS Object Class: Euclid Special Containment Procedures: SCP-SSSS is to be contained in a standard humanoid containment chamber modified to contain a king-size bed. No sentient beings are to be contained within 50m of SCP-SSSS's containment chamber. No sentient beings are permitted to fall asleep within 50m of SCP-SSSS's containment chamber, except during Procedure SSSS-0. SCP-SSSS is to receive weekly psychological counselling. SCP-SSSS may be granted privileges such as socialization or sweets as a reward for good behaviour, provided such priveliges follow standard safety and security protocol. Procedure SSSS-0: One evening every week, a single D-Class personnel in good health and with no violent tendencies is to be fitted with a shock collar and brought into SCP-SSSS's containment chamber. The D-Class is to spend the night asleep in the same bed as SCP-SSSS. The containment chamber is to be monitored throughout this procedure, and the D-Class is to be terminated upon any sign of violent action. Upon the following morning, the D-Class is to be removed from the containment chamber, and may be assigned to other projects if they pass the standard physical and mental checkup. Procedure SSSS-0 may be performed more frequently than scheduled if SCP-SSSS appears malnourished. Description: SCP-SSSS appears to be a human female, approximately 13 years old. People who encounter it consistently express a strong desire to protect and care for it, which is believed to be an anomalous effect. SCP-SSSS is fluent in early modern and modern English, and claims to be over 300 years old. SCP-SSSS has been very cooperative with Foundation personnel since its capture, and is currently not considered a potential threat. SCP-SSSS does not require food for sustenance . Instead, SCP-SSSS gains nourishment by entering REM sleep at the same time as, and within close proximity of, people . SCP-SSSS has stated that the quantity of nourishment depends on both the length and quality of REM sleep. Under ideal conditions, SCP-SSSS is able to subsist on one feeding every 10-12 days, but may feed more often without negative effects. This process causes physical strain to the subject(s) involved, leading to lethargy and eventually death. Based on interviews with SCP-SSSS, the number of feedings until death is highly variable (with the mean being about 60) and depends primarily on the health of the subject. Addendum 1 - Recovery: On August 25, 2019, SCP-SSSS contacted the Foundation via Agent Frederick Meyers' emergency beacon. SCP-SSSS had been residing with Agent Meyers, who was living in a civilian area as a sleeper agent, and had accidentally killed him through feedings. It discovered Meyers' emergency beacon among his belongings, activated it, and requested to be taken into Foundation custody. + Emergency Beacon Call Log, 19-08-25/002 - Emergency Beacon Call Log, 19-08-25/002 Operator: This is San Carlos Photography, how may I help you today? SCP-SSSS: You're the Jailors, right? Operator: Pardon me? SCP-SSSS: The Jailors. The SCP Foundation. The Library told me about you. Please, I need your help. Operator requests a Task Force deployment, Code E-03 (information breach) Operator: Who are you, and how did you get this number? SCP-SSSS: I… I don't know how I'd describe who I am, but I found this thing in James' suitcase. (Note: Agent Meyers was operating under the name James White) Operator: And what happened to James? SCP-SSSS: He's dead. Oh god, I'm sorry, he's dead. I killed him, I'm so sorry. Operator: What do you mean, you killed him? SCP-SSSS: I didn't want to. He was so nice to me, I thought maybe just this once I could stay for a little longer… Oh god, please forgive me… (incoherent) Operator: Uh… Just stay where you are. We have personnel headed towards your location. The Task Force arrived fifteen minutes after the completion of the call and found SCP-SSSS in a state of distress in Agent Meyers' home. SCP-SSSS was restrained and brought into Foundation custody without incident. Addendum 2 - Agent Meyers' Journal: The following document contains excerpts from Agent Meyers' journal, recovered after his death. + Document SSSS-1 - Document SSSS-1 Date: text Date: text

[COOL HEADER THING SOMEHOW]

The following document is classified as a Type-4 Infohazard. Access is restricted to personnel with DDDD/3 clearance. Item #: SCP-DDDD Object Class: Keter Special Containment Procedures: SCP-DDDD cannot be contained. Instead, containment procedures focus on reducing the frequency and intensity of SCP-DDDD manifestations. To this effect, the Foundation has launched an extensive campaign through both anomalous and non-anomalous means to convince the general population that while a fear of the dark is common, it is ultimately unjustified and should be overcome. This is primarily targeted at children, as they are both easier to influence and more likely to cause SCP-DDDD manifestations than adults. For example, the Foundation has inserted both subliminal and explicit messages in many popular children's shows explaining that dark places should not be a cause for fear. For full details on this campaign, consult Document DDDD-A. All field investigations involving SCP-DDDD are to be carried out solely by members of MTF Omicron-99 ("Night Lights"). If any agents who are not part of Omicron-99 encounter SCP-DDDD, they are to be granted provisional DDDD/3 clearance and allowed to read this article. Afterwards, they must either join MTF Omicron-99 or be amnesticized as per the Innocence Protocol (below). Innocence Protocol: The purpose of the Innocence Protocol is to prevent vulnerable Foundation employees from causing SCP-DDDD manifestations. Any and all knowledge of SCP-DDDD is restricted to personnel with DDDD/3 clearance, as SCP-DDDD is functionally an infohazard. All DDDD/3 must pass monthly psychological evaluations to retain their DDDD/3 clearance, and those who fail are to be amnesticized and moved to a different position. Furthermore, personnel may voluntarily undergo amnesticization and relocation at any time if they feel that they are no longer capable of knowing about SCP-DDDD. Description: