RECOVERY LOG 4475.1

DATE: December 21, 2009

RECOVERY NOTE: The following is the earliest known recorded instance of spontaneous teleportation into SCP-4475. Timothy Wickman (POI-4475-01) recorded the following on his camcorder and was later discovered incoherent in the middle of a Wisconsin, USA intersection. Witnesses described him appearing in the middle of the road and regurgitating a large pink-red biological mass.

The only information the tactical response team gleaned from Wickman was his strong desire to "return to the womb."

ARCHIVIST'S NOTE: All building architecture inside of SCP-4475 appears to have been hewn from bone and cartilaginous tissue.

[BEGIN LOG]

[The recording displays a large white threshold resembling SCP-4475's pelvic bone structure. The audio contains heavy panting — presumably Timothy's. The view cuts to an irregular bone structure and zooms in. Audiovisual distortion commences.]

TIMOTHY: Oh Lord.

[Timothy directs the camera at his face. He taps the lens with his forefinger, smudging it, before wiping it with his shirt.]

TIMOTHY: Hey– Uh, is uh, anyone there? Hello?

[Timothy flips the camera back around and taps on the display screen, shaking it. The focused and unfocused view shows off-white floor panels with hexagonal edges.]

TIMOTHY: Hey this is Tim, can anyone help me out in here? My damn GPS isn't working.

TIMOTHY: That's one hell of a way to show the world your dairy farming, Tim. Stay calm, stay frosty. Remember, Tim, bears are more dangerous than people. Stay put, Tim, search parties are–

TIMOTHY: [He sighs.] Search party's on the way. That's the third rule of scout-safety. Here, the forest, the ranch, and everywhere.

TIMOTHY: Where is everyone? [He yells.] Hello! Y'know, I'd do anything for a water bottle!

<LOG CUTS UNEXPECTEDLY>

<LOG CONTINUES | 23:00 FORWARD>

[The camera rests on a flat surface. There is a low rhythmic humming and distant trickle. Scraping sounds approach the camera.]

[Slurping.]

TIMOTHY: Fuck. [He retches.] Why am I so thirsty?

[Soft mulching accompanies Timothy's footsteps. The view moves through a large entrance and into a tall white edifice with intricate designs and carven surfaces.]

[Timothy approaches a threshold, wider than the last.]

TIMOTHY: Another entrance? What is this place?

[Timothy enters into a small white courtyard with similar intricate carvings. Various bovine head and udder statues line the interior walls. Timothy stops in front of a mural adorning the far courtyard wall. Text inscriptions — identified as Indus script in large font and Sanskrit in small font — are paired with different pictures.]

[The murals depict 25 entities in a five-by-five formation. Each entity is a nude humanoid with iridescent full-body tattoos and malformed serpentine necks. The view blurs, then resolves, now focusing on a featureless, placid green face, with five intersecting lines on the forehead.]

TIMOTHY: Huh…?

[Timothy moves to the next wall to the right and stops again. This wall depicts Thaumaturgical Runes overlaying thick black smoke. The wall depicts the same group; this time, they migrate into a dark tunnel. Each entity holds baskets on their heads, while smaller serpentine-headed children hug their hips. A single long umbilical cord wraps around each humanoid's shoulder and body, terminating inside the cave.]

[Distant sloshing. Timothy appears not to notice.]

[Timothy keeps moving, this time taking little care to review the next inscriptions. The camera continues to depict the same group in a sequential line of images, but with increasing body mutations and rendering distortions. A bony placard reads "only skins and never bone" in Indus script and Sanskrit.]

[Rushing liquid dominates the audio. Timothy bolts down a dark tunnel.]

TIMOTHY: Who the fuck is there? I'm armed, stay back.

[Sloshing rises over several sounds.]

UNKNOWN: [Gurgling.]

<LOG CUTS UNEXPECTEDLY>

<LOG CONTINUES | 10:00 FORWARD>

[Heavy static.]

[Footage regains visibility on a cliffside platform; ~30-meter-wide (estimated) subterranean chambers are below.]

[From a distance, the view zooms in to the nearest chamber. Depictions inside the chamber resolve into focus.]

[Inked murals depict humanoid entities in silhouette. Each entity wears golden armor and ornate beryllium bronze. The camera pans up toward the top of the area, capturing a fresco on the ceiling, which depicts a large feminine bovine figure with statuesque proportions in the center; sharpened bone growths extend from her abdominal region. Below her abdominal, a bloated udder and six teats hang.]

<LOG CUTS UNEXPECTEDLY>

<LOG CONTINUES | ??/ERR>

NOTE: Media is incapable of stating time, date, or recording duration. An unknown period of time has passed.

[Timothy walks through a tunnel of flesh.]

TIMOTHY: She looks like Bessie, doesn't she? My cow I mean, back at the ranch.

UNKNOWN: [Gurgling sounds.]

TIMOTHY: She's a good girl! I know she has, you know, a bit of a stereotypical name for a cow and all. But believe me, she's a sweetheart. My old man got her for me when I turned 16 and I've been tending to her for a couple of years now.

UNKNOWN: [Gurgling.]

TIMOTHY: Say, fella, you got any water?

UNKNOWN: [Gurgling.]

TIMOTHY: I need some fuckin' water. I've been drinking the wall teats, but they're–

[Timothy stops himself.]

[Neither party vocalizes for an extended period.]

TIMOTHY: … You don't talk much, do you?

[The camera pans to the left. Visual distortion and shadow masks the figure.]

[A white vestigial appendage rises slowly from the silhouette, pointing upward. The camera pans up. Humanoid entities encased in foreign red flesh hang from the ceiling. A single large umbilical cord connects them at the neck.]

UNKNOWN: [Gurgling.]

TIMOTHY: I– I don't understand. Who are they?

UNKNOWN: [Gurgling.]

TIMOTHY: I mean, you can just– You can tell me, I don't–

UNKNOWN: [Gurgling.]

TIMOTHY: I don't get it. I've been following you for– [He pauses.] God knows how long, and you haven't told me a damn thing! Why can't you tell me?

[The camera drops to the floor. Timothy sobs for several minutes.]

TIMOTHY: [Whimpering sounds.]

[Timothy picks the camera back up. The silhouetted figure is visible at the view's right edge.]

UNKNOWN: [Gurgling and dripping.]

TIMOTHY: Wait, what?

UNKNOWN: [Loud gurgling.]

TIMOTHY: I… I can understand you. So– Wait, hold on, what do you mean? Two groups? Two groups of what?

UNKNOWN: [Gurgling.]

TIMOTHY: So what are they, then? Religious groups? And they're Christians?

[Silence.]

TIMOTHY: So a church and a church, but there's no relation. Like Baptists and Mormons. No, uh, wait.

UNKNOWN: [Crackling and popping noises.]

[The camera jerks downward. White, fleshy protrusions foam and rise upward; bubbles and white smoke emit.]

TIMOTHY: Same stars, same eyes — the five and the seven.

UNKNOWN: [Sloshing sounds.]

TIMOTHY: It all makes sense now.

[Many layers of adipose fat squeeze out from one another. Grease splatters, and oil slicks onto the camera lens. The camera falls to the ground, pointing up at Timothy. He makes no attempt to retrieve it.]

TIMOTHY: I'm thirsty. Tell me more.

UNKNOWN: [In Timothy's voice; distorted.] I must go to the beginning.

[Dark purple mounds of flesh, resembling colorectal polyps, slowly consume Timothy's body. The ceiling swirls toward a single point and widens into an agape sphincter. It prolapses and slowly ingests Timothy, who exhibits no distress.]

TIMOTHY: What's that thing above the center of the ruins? Those murals?

UNKNOWN: [In Timothy's voice; distorted.] As below, so above. Mother awaits endless space. A resting place in the light.

TIMOTHY: And in the dome — what are those star maps?

UNKNOWN: [In Timothy's voice; distorted.] The location of Father Orion. From his sword, a cleansing fire to carry Mother and her chosen children to the next world.

TIMOTHY: A-at the beginning of our time, Mother Bovine q-q-quenched her children's thirst.

UNKNOWN: [In Timothy's voice; distorted.] Beware the mother that gives, beware the children that take. Hathor gave and gave until her heat decayed. [The voice falters and cracks.] Great starless darkness l-l-left in the womb.

[Timothy screams and the ceiling closes again, leaving no trace of the sphincter or his body.]

UNKNOWN: [In a distorted timbre.] M-mother knows all fragile things lay left. Mother sees the f-f-fallen stars bereft. Mother knows, mother knows, mother knows–

[END LOG]

NOTE: The entity continued to mutter unintelligibly as its speech degraded into a consonant-heavy language. The recording ceased an extended amount of time later.