D3: D-38138, Caucasian male, age 27

D4: D-40076, Caucasian male, age 22

D9: D-90124, African-American male, age 36

C1: Dr. Limkiewicz, communications relay, Site ██ (sound only)

(Note: For this procedure, video cameras have been sewn into the clothing worn by all three D-class to leave their hands available.)

C1: Protocol requires me to remind you that if you try anything at all out of line with what the Foundation and its representatives request, that you are to be terminated immediately. But I'm sure you already knew that.

D9: Yeah, yeah.

C1: Don't take it so lightly. The people guarding this place have weapons much more powerful than the ones we've had to give you, and they won't hesitate to—

D9: Right. Look, nobody's doing anything… untoward. Okay? So would you mind not saying the same shit over and over for the rest of this trip?

C1: I don't take that kind of insolence from my own subordinates, 90124. Don't speak to me that way again.

D9: (laughter) I hear you, doc.

D3: How are we getting into this place? Can't remember.

C1: You'll be taking the western entrance. Our last man didn't get very far, so you'll more or less be picking up where he left off.

D4: No shit? Sounds great. Nice and safe.

D3: That's why we've got guns, dumbass.

C1: Oh, speaking of which, remember that you are permitted to fire your weapons only at anything inside the house that looks like the man whose picture you were shown before you left. He'll be dressed the same as you three, so be sure not to mistake him for one of you or vice versa.

D9: You phrased that differently before we left. What does that mean, "anything that looks like him"?

D3: So you're encouraging us to murder somebody.

C1: If it happens, it won't be murder.

D3: Interesting.

(Conversation pauses for fifteen seconds as the D-class approach the west entrance.)

D4: You want to kick the door in, or should I?

C1: Don't advertise your presence any more than you can help. Your priority here is helping us to gather intelligence, you're not an extermination squad.

D4: Fine. Can we go inside, at least? We're burning daylight. I don't want to be here when the sun sets.

C1: You may enter. Remain quiet.

(Western entrance opens. D-38138 steps into the doorway but quickly springs backward.)

D3: What the hell?

(A manifestation of SCP-1919-1, appearing as a misshapen version of D-72274, bursts through the doorway. Its right arm is approximately 1.4x its proportionate size, in addition to being visibly double-jointed. Manifestation lunges into the sunlight toward D-40076, who can be heard shouting until D-90124 fires his weapon once into the creature's head, killing it. D-38138 clutches his ears.)

D4: Christ! What the fuck was that? Did you know that was going to be in there?

C1: Yes. Be on the lookout for more of them inside.

D9: More? How many are there?

C1: Please enter the building.

D9: How many more of these motherfuckers are waiting for us?

C1: You have been ordered to enter the building. Failure to comply will result—

D9: Of course. Don't bother, doc. I hear you.

(D-90124 stops to stare at the dead manifestation, mumbling, as D-38138 reopens the western door. SCP 1919-1's jaw hangs several inches lower than that of an average human.)

D9: "Anything that looks like him." Jesus. Could have said something.

(D-40076 can be heard swearing audibly for the next several seconds as all three D-class enter SCP-1919. As the door closes, a high-frequency noise emanates from the microphones.)

D4: What's our plan? Are we supposed to split up?

D3: Yeah, let's split up. Great idea. Let's make ourselves as vulnerable as we can.

D4: Well, okay, dick. How about you think of something?

D3: Survival sound good?

C1: Stop talking. Did any of you hear a high-pitched sound just now?

D3: I hear one every time this little teenage asswipe opens his mouth.

D4: Fuck you.

C1: Never mind. Keep moving.

(All three camera feeds display parts of the hallway D-72274 investigated. The portrait from two days previous is now almost wholly missing, and pieces of the wall beside it are scattered across the floor.)

D9: What happened in here?

(D-90124 turns to face the corridor where D-72274 fell. The body is absent. Red streaks lead around a corner from where he collapsed into a darkened room.)

D3: Hey, ████, we're walking. I'm not gonna yell for you.

D9: I'm coming.

(D-class reach the end of the hallway. To the right is a door with the word "BALLROOM" embossed on a bronze plaque. They look at each other before pulling it open. Sunlight hardly reaches the room, illuminating only a small triangle in the doorway.)

C1: You have flashlights, right? We can't see a thing from here, turn them on.

(The room looks as though it has been recently gutted; most of the floor space is unoccupied, and it can be seen easily where pictures in large frames used to hang on the three walls that remain intact. The southern wall is full of massive holes. From the viewpoint afforded by the D-class, what the spaces in the far-off wall lead to cannot be seen.)

D3: It did not look this bad from outside.

C1: One or more of you, take a look at the south wall. Seems unusual.

D9: We'll go over in a minute. There's some shit over here, check it out.

D3: What have you found?

D9: Cameras. A ton of them.

(D-90124 points at seventeen video cameras, spread haphazardly across the torn-up hardwood in the southeastern corner of the chamber. D-40076 remains facing the south wall as movement within it becomes apparent.)

C1: (barely audible) Oh, no.

D3: Where do you think these came from? The ones without cracked screens look brand new.

C1: [static]—ot just the first D-class, you need to—[static]

D4: Jesus Christ!

D3: Keep quiet! What's wrong with you?

D4: The wall, the fucking wall!

(D-40076 turns and runs out of the ballroom. D-90124's camera and flashlight point at the southern wall. SCP-1919-1 begins to emerge heads-first from two of the gaps in it. The first manifestation on the left looks to be the first one that caught D-72274, but the leading one on the right, aside from a sizable dent in the forehead, bears a close resemblance to D-90124. They land on their feet and begin to run with considerable speed toward the D-class.)

C1: Disregard previous instructions, leave the room immediately. Seek shelter. Go!

(D-90124 stands motionless. D-38138 fires his weapon into the chests of the two duplicates, expending four rounds total. A brief, metallic rattle comes from the floor beside where the false D-class lands face-down.)

D3: Fucking move!

(D-38138 grabs D-90124 by the upper arm and pulls him toward the door. As he turns, D-90124's camera captures movement visible in fourteen of the holes in the wall.)

C1: (on separate radio) ██████, this is Limkiewicz, Site ██, password [REDACTED]. Requesting immediate full perimeter lockdown.

(D-40076 can be seen retracing his path to the western entrance. Blocking the door to the outside is a crowd of doppelgangers of himself and the other D-class. One in the shape of D-90124 raises his arm, displaying a pistol identical to the ones provided by the Foundation. D-40076 faces the other direction and starts to run back down the corridor. A series of gunshots is heard; after the third, D-40076 spins and collapses. Camera focuses solely on western doorway until battery drains.)

D3: There've got to be some stairs in here. The building's got at least three floors, I could see before we came in. Where the fuck are—oh!

(D-38138 and D-90124 sprint up a crumbled flight of steps to the second floor and are met with a large contingent of SCP-1919-1. D-90124 begins to reach for his weapon but instead follows D-38138 up the remaining stairs to the third story. As they reach the top floor, the microphones begin to whine the same way that they did when the western door closed.)

C1: (to staff) Turn the volume down, I can't hear myself think. (to D-class) Can the two of you really not hear that? Are the microphones the only things picking it up?

D9: I don't have a goddamn clue what you're talking about, doctor.

C1: It sounds like feedback, almost, or a dentist's drill. It's deafening on this end.

D3: Not right now, don't bother me with that. There's something weird up here.

D9: You feel that, too?

C1: What is it?

D9: Strange feeling. Kind of… We should get out of here.

D3: Probably.

(Both subjects move deeper into the darkness of the hallway, their flashlights out of camera view.)

C1: It's getting louder and louder—where are you going? Turn on a light, one of you.

D3: Hush.

C1: Answer the question! You are being given a direct order!

D3: Keep quiet.

C1: What?

D3: Keep quiet.

D9: She can hear you.

(D-38138 and D-90124 do not acknowledge any further communication. Their cameras pick up a faint white glow from beneath one of the closed doors in the corridor toward which the two are moving.)

C1: 90124, respond! 38138?

(The door opens, and the light on the other side becomes visibly brighter. The two cameras pick up several frames of a female human silhouette moving quickly in their direction before cutting to static for the remainder of battery life. Concurrently, the camera attached to D-40076 picks up an unusual sound in addition to the pitch noted by Dr. Limkiewicz [headphones recommended]. Still frames from cameras D-90124 and D-38138 pending declassification.)