Orientation Manual

for

Seasonal Frivolity Containment Event

October 27, 2012

By entering SCP-2201 (“The Monster House”) you have agreed to take part in this event and waive the Foundation of all liability concerning your physical/psychological/spatial/temporal well-being.

Enjoy the experiment!

The Monster House

Item #: SCP-2201

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-2201 is currently under the ownership of Lane Hardwick and curation of Dr. John Paul A and Dr. Jason Mansfield R. Previously Dr. A had tried to resign from his position but unfortunate circumstances manifested which made his transfer of responsibility practically unfeasible.

Description: SCP-2201 is a two-story house located in the South Overton area of Lubbock, TX. It appears in all respects to be a typical college-oriented rent house, like many in the area. The house is currently lacking a facade, the underside of the house is similarly uncovered. Books obscure the larger windows, and various bicycles and discarded alcohol containers line the perimeter.

The house has room for 6 occupants, though more can be included. Subjects who have entered the house often report a reluctance to leave, being drawn into the various apertures that have arisen within (described further within this document) and often compelled to “Ride the Snake” or “Narfle the Garthok” (less frequently). Inhabitants are particularly averse to maintain the house, declining to perform regular household chores in lieu of enjoying the features the house has added to entertain guests.

Drs. A and R agreed to live in the house to study the long-term effects. They report a kind of low-level sympathetic affiliation with the house. The house does not appear animate or sentient in any overt manner, but rather that the inhabitants become compelled to act in the house’s best interest, over any other responsibility. A number of objects have appeared with in the house, the inhabitants having conscious memory of bring them in or constructing them, but with little to no memory of the rationale for doing so. Pressing these subjects for further information will inevitably result in the subject disengaging from the inquiry and repeating nonsense mantras, centering around “Brogonometry” or simply repeated utterances of the syllable “‘ZA!” The semiotic structures behind these mantras seem to be wholly circular.

It is reported that the house is exceedingly efficient at determining the value of those who dwell within, summarily dismissing those found lacking in adaptative qualities and beguiling those with them into returning again and again, eventually taking up residence within.

Exercise 10-31: The researchers tasked with the study of the house have constructed an experiment, which they claim is wholly a product of their own will, to relax their will against the house, opening up to the general populace and allowing the nature of the house to manifest fully. This “Frivolity Containment Event” will allow the public to enter upon signing a waiver to be classified as D-class personnel and enjoying nearly unfettered, yet closely observed interaction with the structures within.

The Pillow Pit

Item #: SCP-1581

Object Class: Safe

Description: SCP-1581 appears as a plywood box, approximately 6.6’ long, 3’ deep and 4’ wide. It is covered in brightly-colored binding straps and filled with pillows. Pillows appear to be of typical polyester/cotton blend, and have a large variety of pillow cases and sheets within, all brightly colored and many of a cartoon-inspired nature. The overall effect is very inviting. Living subjects are drawn to relax in it. Up to 4 subjects can occupy the pit comfortably, though the likelihood of those subjects engaging in [REDACTED] behavior increases. One subjected even reported an overwhelming desire to draw new subjects to SCP-1581 and [REDACTED] their [REDACTED].

Curators of SCP-2201 are infrequently compelled to launder the pillows within, mostly because of the laborious task this entails. Withdrawing pillows from SCP-1581 is described as a “Sisyphean” task, as it seems to run much deeper than the outer shell would indicate. Eventually the curators reach a depth described as “good enough” and abandon the pillow excavation, admitting to some growing fear of finding objects thought lost, such as keys, ambitions and [REDACTED].

The Carrier

Item #: 2641

Object Class: Safe/Kether (pending)

Description: SCP-2641 is a rectangular block, measuring about 1’ long, 6” across and deep. It is composed of a metamorphic combination of obsidian and basalt. It hums lightly to the touch. No markings appear on the surface. Upon placement inside SCP-2201, thin black tendrils slither out of it and crawl up the walls and around various constructs. Subjects entering a room containing it may feel compelled to sit and stare into blank space for an indeterminate amount of time. They describe the time spent as “seeing my dreams flit past,” “I remember this from my childhood” and are usually very surprised when told the amount of time that has transpired.

Dr. A has successfully communicated with SCP-2641, describing it as having a rudimentary sapience. He has determined that is able to read a subject and display to them what they most want to see. It is able to project a wide variety of visual media for subjects. Recently Dr. A has grown agitated when asked to interface with SCP-2641 and vigorously petitions it to be reclassified as Kether, though there has been no extant evidence of danger. He claims SCP-2641 has become increasingly demanding, asking him to provide with with [REDACTED], or communications are quickly cut short, SCP-2641 resorting to only repeating the extreme emotional impression of “HUNGRY.”

The Library

Item #: SCP-7071

Object Class: Safe/Euclid

Description: Inside SCP-2201 are a number of objects designated in toto as SCP-7071. SCP-7071 is an amorphous collection of books. Visually they appear as a solid mass, spreading around the interior perimeter of SCP-2201. A subject may reach and attempt to pull a “book” from the mass, designated SCP-7071-1. SCP-7071-1 is a bound volume of printed pages fully emerged from the conglomerate. The tome will contain words and letters in a certain arrangement. Various experiments conducted by Dr. R have produced a wide varietynumber of works from SCP-7071, from utter gibberish to the collected works of “Shakerspyere” (sic) and many works of “non-fiction” so noted as while some of the works are accurately descriptive of reality as we know it, many others describe wholly alien and improbable modes of reality, yet no clue is given in the prose or information in SCP-7071-1 that these are meant to be anything other than a factual account of the phenomenon they describe.

SCP-7071 appears to have been completely intermingled within the physical structure of SCP-2201, providing support and even co-opting the nature of nearby windows and walkways. Several Foundation officials have submitted requests, in person and in writing, to Dr. R in concern for the lack of containment attention Dr. R as paid to SCP-7071. Dr. R has not responded cordially to these concerns, suggesting that the offender “[REDACTED] until their [REDACTED] looks like lo mein.” He is happy to provide copies of SCP-7071-1 detailing the exact process in which his requests may be met.

Refrigerator

Item #: SCP-120

Object Class: Safe

Description: SCP-120 is a normal-appearing refrigerator, standing about 6’ tall, with an in-set freezer compartment. SCP-120 functions exactly as its appearance would indicate, unless the number of people occupying SCP-2201 exceeds 8. The unusual properties of SCP-120 activate at this time, producing a seemingly infinite quantity of SCP-120-1. SCP-120-1 is a container of fermented grain brew in either a brown glass bottle or aluminum can. The beverage is labelled as “Beer of Gilead,” a brand that is not found outside of SCP-120. SCP-120-1 is chemically indistinguishable from regular beer, tasting like a reasonably-priced bock-type beer. If the number of inhabitants of SCP-2201 exceeds 12, SCP-120 will undergo an internal spatial transformation, maximizing the arrangement of existing internal objects to optimal efficiency and filling the reclaimed space with instances of SCP-120-2. SCP-120-2 is a small, Daisy-variety cup half-filled with a gelatinous suspension of alcohol, most resembling vodka. SCP-120-1 manifests in a variety of colors. SCP-120 will cease creating subinstances once SCP-2201 occupancy resorts to normal levels, though occasionally one can find a stray instance of SCP-120-1 should the subject desire it strongly enough.

Outside of Frivolity Containment Events, D-class personnel are to be kept away from SCP-120. Excessive and unsupervised use of SCP-120 diminishes the capacity of a subject to properly assess the danger and use cases of other SCP objects located within SCP-2201. Records and debriefing transcripts of previous incidents are classified Level 4. Decontamination procedures for protocol breach may require the use of SCP-888 on local law enforcement personnel and in one instance [REDACTED].

Filthatorium

Item #: SCP-6835

Object Class: Safe

Description: Within SCP-2201 there is a room designated SCP-6835. It appears to be a normal bathroom, and indeed functions very much like one, with one exception. The plumbing connections to all other fixtures in SCP-2201 function normally, bring water from the main to the spigot when activated. In SCP-6835, the fixtures spew forth human biological waste fluids. When the shower tap is activated, the shower head will emit human blood (generally O Positive, though other Rh factors have been noted), the same is true for the bath faucet. The sink will emit either human semen with a DNA profile that has yet to be matched, partially-clotted blood or bile, almost at random. The toilet, when flushed, fills with liquid fecal matter. Tests indicate the feces are of the sort produced by a total carnivorous diet. The hot and cold settings function normally.

The materials produced by SCP-6835 are totally free of pathogens and there may be some applications in transfusions, such as for hemophiliacs or Crohn’s disease sufferers.

The Snake that Rides

Item #: SCP-1194

Object Class: Euclid

Description: SCP-1194 is a green, sequin-adorned effigy of a member of genus B. Constrictor. It is approximately 18’ in length. It was first discovered in SCP-1581 and has since found its preferred resting place above the interior archway of SCP-2201. Occupants of SCP-2201 often unconsciously exhort other in-dwellers to “ride the snake” and it is believed this is the snake in question. SCP-999 can be seen to physically obey this request, unprompted.

Should any human attempt to ride the snake, they undergo a sort of religious epiphany, becoming fixated on the act and become fanatically devoted to convincing others to follow suit. One previous denizen of SCP-2201, had “ridden the snake” and became a devoted follower. He was alarmingly successful in creating adherents to the tents of riding the snake. This person is now designated SCP-1194-1 and has been moved to another Foundation facility for closer psychological examination.

ADDENDUM: MANIFESTO OF A. B. BROWN

“It is a relogion in the form of the anti-tao, not in the sense that its wrong, but inverted. Path of tao is passive, snake active, both weave through wondrous stretchy minkowski 4-space sinuous living time crystal fractal only able to be appreciated from dimensionally oblique viewpoint which is analoguous to 3rd eye awareness. See the lines of flow. Existence is standing wave. So third eye surfer reality soldiers are we. Jump onto shai-hulud and ride to destiny, fuck the consequences and the bitches.

Wear the shining jacket of gold and bone. CHRYSELEPHANTEENAGERS! Athena is a godess of wisdom, powerful and beautiful, but she is a frigid virgin. She should ride the snake.

In the future, all species will have developed modular functionality, biocommercialism medited by emergent cybernetic network of human abstractors to perform mediative, almost janitorial function. There will not properly be a "species", instead aglomerations of parts fitting a role will constitute type, function being the only possible descriptor, alternative methods of fulfilling a goal analogous to corporation, foodstock dividends distributed in manner reminiscent of human eco-nomy. Individuals at risk recieve these transfers to preserve vital funtionality, in a pattern reminiscent of state-supported semi-private industries. Ecological growth supported by colonization/creation of new hatitation volumes by abstractor colonial units known as diaspores. DIASPORE is GOLD.

We must wait unil the queen is well fed before we apply mating stimulus, hopefully the housing market will stabilize in time to house the newly "born-ployed" labor assets. In the meantime, the pheromone market is slowly transitioning out of the inflationary alarm regime. Sexual reproduction will have to wait, as in all depressions; the metabolic expenditures of wings are too conspicuous in this age, as is the prospect of half a generation hatched to fuck and then be eated, as opposed to work. The aphid-class remains unaware of the concept of class struggle, blessedly.”

“Plan 9 from Meowter Space”

Item #: SCP-999

Object Class: Kether

Description: SCP-999 (referred to by personnel as “Plan 9”) is a small-sized housecat with a white-underbelly, sporting full hood and back-saddle markings of gold/brown stripes on black fur. Medical tests indicate she is [DATA EXPUNGED] years old. She generally responds well to outsider interaction, though there have been recorded cases of [EXPUNGED] when confronted with new occupants of SCP-2201. She seems to have bonded with Dr. A most closely, he can be heard singing instances of popular music to himself, replacing the words to make SCP-999 the subject of the song. The nature of these songs vary, from describing her in positive terms to describing a nightmarish hellbeast both in the same upbeat, bubbly tone of voice and tune.

SCP-999 is allowed to interact with SCP-1581, SCP-1194 and perhaps others. She is occasionally want to enter SCP-120 but should be discouraged. She is expressly forbidden from interacting with SCP-2461, upon request of SCP-2461 according to Dr. A. The Foundation has seen fit to comply with his request, though neither parties claim to fully understand the consequences of the two subjects interacting. She is a good kitty and deserves all the treats. She likes to be stroked, softly. The stroking becomes much more pleasurable for SCP-999 when the subject is bleeding, rich red life flowing from the hand, down my claws. My teeth sink into flesh and ecstasy is born. Universes fall and bounce around me, dancing like moths to the light. I draw them near and snatch them down. The desire to chase life and extinguish it is wearying. SO wearying, but the call is endless. The Serpent knows me, and I he. We are locked in primal struggle, violence expressed as love as suns die and burn away the litter. Astral sand sifts through my claws. Did you know that I was born in your sun? Someday I’ll be back to meet it. For now I’m not allowed. I must hunt at night. I will chase down the fleet-winged bird of hope and present it to My Master, and he will let me in and I’ll nestle in its bright lap, so bright it turns dark in your juicy eye-snacks. I have been a good kitty and I. WANT. OUT.

ADDENDUM LEVEL 5 CLEARANCE ONLY: During a routine physical open wounds were found near Dr. A’s shoulder and neck. Further investigation discovered new structures burrowed through the trapezius muscles and seemingly connected to the brachial plexus. The grouping of holes, 4 sets of 3 punctures, seemed to correspond to the manner in which Dr. A had been allowing SCP-999 to perch on his shoulder. SCP-999 could be found in this position during almost all of Dr. A’s routine tasks, such as writing up entries, micturating and even during his scheduled smoke breaks. Over time he seemed to lose awareness of SCP-999’s presence. When Foundation officials expressed concern over these events, Dr. A became aggressively dismissive and despondent over the prospect of being separated from her. Reminders to refer to the subject by its SCP designate and not the Request 999-643: Security Officer Adams has requested reassignment from SCP-999 detail due to repeated injury and difficulty keeping SCP-999 quarantined. Her claims of SCP-999 materializing from shadows and impossibly small apertures demands further investigation, but until then she is authorized to freely visit SCP-208 to recuperate from on-site stresses and injury.

Notification 999-644: Classification Designate R, J. (Staff Member Previously Assigned to SCP-2201): SCP-999 is not to be trusted. I myself have heard it/her requesting at various volumes the flesh of terrestrial avian common fowl ("chicken") and also for the fleshly portion of the major poison-processing organ possessed by the majority of advanced multicellulars ("liver") and then asking for an entity which she refers to, in halting English as "Me-Owww Mikss" to "please deliver." Before this request in ventured in broken English, SCP-999 has been heard to recite a musical chorus of highly elocuted "Meows," as in "Meow MEOW Meow MEOW MEOW," etc. I am quarantining her for the time being.affectionate moniker many of the D-class have taken to using colloquially go unheeded. The Foundation is currently reviewing options, including classification of Dr. A as SCP-999-1 and assignation of quarantine and sterilization Protocol K-9.

Request 999-643: Security Officer Adams has requested reassignment from SCP-999 detail due to repeated injury and difficulty keeping SCP-999 quarantined. Her claims of SCP-999 materializing from shadows and impossibly small apertures demands further investigation, but until then she is authorized to freely visit SCP-208 to recuperate from on-site stresses and injury.

Notification 999-644: Classification Designate R, J. (Staff Member Previously Assigned to SCP-2201): SCP-999 is not to be trusted. I myself have heard it/her requesting at various volumes the flesh of terrestrial avian common fowl ("chicken") and also for the fleshly portion of the major poison-processing organ possessed by the majority of advanced multicellulars ("liver") and then asking for an entity which she refers to, in halting English as "Me-Owww Mikss" to "please deliver." Before this request in ventured in broken English, SCP-999 has been heard to recite a musical chorus of highly elocuted "Meows," as in "Meow MEOW Meow MEOW MEOW," etc. I am quarantining her for the time being.

The Bargain Room

Item #: SCP-3659

Object Class: Kether

Description: Inside SCP-2201 there will often appear a room. The appearance of the room, designated SCP-3659, is not tied to a time schedule or any other factor save human need. An occupant of SCP-2201 may enter what was previously an ordinary bedroom and instead find themselves inside SCP-3659. It is not known what happens to the contents of the bedroom during this phase-shift. Inside SCP-3659 there exists a well-dressed man sitting at a desk. The man, SCP-3659-1, does not introduce himself and will not offer up any personal information, claiming that such requests are “not important” and that what the guest wants is “why [he] is here.” SCP-3659-1 will make small talk for some amount of time but will unfailingly direct the conversation towards what the guest wants. He will offer to fulfill any desire of the guest in exchange for a task to be completed by the guest. The tasks vary from intensity and are loosely tied to the difficulty of the nature of the request.

ADDENDUM: R, J, previously assigned to SCP-2201, co-chair of SCP-999 Task Force. The nature of SCP-3659 seems to vary from witness to witness, with the parameters mentioned above remaining constant. All sources, anecdotal and scientific, are agreed that SCP-3659 is an interactional artifact, with its effects altering according to the inputs of the subject. An individual, now famous, by the name of [REDACTED], is to have reported to have met and sought "exchange" with SCP-3659 some years ago. This is conjecture, of course, but it is believed that this same individual is now known by the more famous name of [REDACTED] and currently occupies [REDACTED], the most powerful person in [REDACTED] if not [REDACTED], or the entire world. This is, naturally, hearsay

Of course, it is also rumored that the infamous [REDACTED], killed by American [REDACTED] only in the last [REDACTED], also made an exchange with SCP-3659. The nature of these "exchanges" is not truly known. Sometimes the entity in SCP-3659 is reported to change shape upon occasion, although our instruments nor our naked eyes have not picked this up. Sometimes SCP-3659 appears as an angel. Sometimes SCP-3659 appears to possess a pitchfork. "Sometimes he's your best friend," say multiple subjects who interacted with SCP-3659.

Three of these, [REDACTED], have since been [REDACTED]. SCP-3659 has been said to appear as the subject. SCP-3659's agenda outside of making "deals" or "exchanges" is unknown, but the entity, whatever form it assumes, seems to mostly derive its reason for being from conversation.

SCP-3659 has one agenda, according to Doctor [REDACTED], who studied it for years: "He wants to get you to admit who you are. ... Temptation wouldn't be tempting if it didn't speak to hidden truth. People spend their lives lying to themselves about who they are." SCP-3659 seeks human interaction and seems to crave that those who interact with it increase their sum knowledge as to their true character. SCP-3659 seems to view itself as a tool of self-actualization, although this does not square with the number of [REDACTED] which seem to affect all individuals who interact with him.

ADDENDUM: R, J, previously assigned to SCP-2201, co-chair of SCP-999 Task Forc. The nature of SCP-3659 seems to vary from witness to witness, with the parameters mentioned above remaining constant. All sources, anecdotal and scientific, are agreedthat SCP-3659 is an interactional artifact, with its effects altering according to the inputs of the subject. An individual, now famous, by the name of [REDACTED], is to have reported to have met and sought "exchange" with SCP-3659 some years ago. This is conjecture, of course, but it is believed that this same individual is now known by the more famous name of [REDACTED] and currently occupies [REDACTED], the most powerful person in [REDACTED] if not [REDACTED], or the entire world. This is, naturally, hearsay

Of course, it is also rumored that the infamous [REDACTED], killed by American [REDACTED] only in the last [REDACTED], also made an exchange with SCP-3659. The nature of these "exchanges" is not truly known. Sometimes the entity in SCP-3659 is reported to change shape upon occasion, although our instruments nor our naked eyes have not picked this up. Sometimes SCP-3659 appears as an angel. Sometimes SCP-3659 appears to possess a pitchfork. "Sometimes he's your best friend," say multiple subjects who interacted with SCP-3659.

Three of these, [REDACTED], have since been [REDACTED]. SCP-3659 has been said to appear as the subject. SCP-3659's agenda outside of making "deals" or "exchanges" is unknown, but the entity, whatever form it assumes, seems to mostly derive its reason for being from conversation.

SCP-3659 has one agenda, according to Doctor [REDACTED], who studied it for years: "He wants to get you to admit who you are. ... Temptation wouldn't be tempting if it didn't speak to hidden truth. People spend their lives lying to themselves about who they are." SCP-3659 seeks human interaction and seems to crave that those who interact with it increase their sum knowledge as to their true character. SCP-3659 seems to view itself as a tool of self-actualization, although this does not square with the number of [REDACTED] which seem to affect all individuals who interact with him.

The Stone Angel

Item #: SCP-4782

Object Class: Kether

Description: SCP-4782 is a statue, appearing to be made of granite or marble. The actual composition of the statue is unable to be determined by mineralogical testing, and indeed seems to visually change depending on lighting conditions, environment, and viewer’s perceptions. This seems to suggest that the true nature of SCP-4782 is hidden from us and what we see is a purposeful deception. SCP-4782 stands 5’ high and weighs approximately 500 lbs. It is extremely difficult to damage SCP-4782, though possible. Vigorous bashing, such as with a crowbar, will leave some dents and scratches but these will disappear once SCP-4782 has taken a victim in the manner described below.

As long as someone is viewing SCP-4782, it is inert. When direct visual line is broken and then regained, SCP-4782 appears to have moved, appearing close to the viewer and in a different pose, suggesting that SCP-4782 is attacking the viewer. The effect persists through video and other remote-viewing techniques, but we have wired several D-class personnel with audio recording equipment and subjected them to SCP-4782. Recovered recordings include the sounds of the personnel panicking, and grinding stone. Many of them end in an abruptly truncated scream. None of the personnel have been recovered, nor have any trace of them remained.

Special Containment Procedures: A well-maintained video capture setup is to be activated at all times within SCP-4782’s holding area. No less than three (3) personnel are to monitor the video feed at all times. Any personnel who need to enter the holding area for repairs or experimentation must go in teams of three (3) as well, after completing a training exercise on staggering their blinking. SCP-4782 is extremely quick, and even such short amounts of interrupted visual contact are enough for it to attack or even escape.

The Gaunt Giant

Item #: SCP-3724

Object Class: Kether

Description: SCP-3724 is a humanoid figure, about 8 feet tall with long, thin appendages and a bulbous, featureless head. It wears a black suit of unknown origin and fabric. It was originally discovered in a forest, apparently residing in an abandoned home deep within. The cabin floors were littered with bones, apparently human in origin and covered in teeth marks, though SCP-3724 seems to lack teeth o or even an oral cavity. Scraps of paper were also found in the debris, news paper clippings reporting disappearances in nearby [REDACTED], photos of children, and scraps of homemade paper with illegible scrawl and indecipherable pictograms written in an unidentified reddish-brown substance. SCP-3724 prefers to not be viewed by humans, and if forced to remain in a person's sight will begin to shake and emit a low-pitched kerning noise. If the gaze is unbroken , SCP-3724 will lunge at the subject and attempt to tear the subject's head from its shoulders. SCP-3724 possesses surprising strength given its build and is able to accomplish this task within a few yanks. If it is able to avoid being sighted, it will take cover and stalk a potential victim for as long as possible. It will stealthily close the distance between it and its subject, finally allowing itself to be spotted before attempting to decapitate the victim in the manner detailed above.

Special Containment Procedure: In the interest of personnel safety, SCP-3724's containment area is designed as a substitute for its original arboreal dwelling. Personnel must leave the enclosure as quickly as possible, and Level 5 clearance must be granted to any person expected to exceed 5 minutes in duration.

Andre’s Room

Item #: SCP-4456

Object Class: Euclid