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i really should have nominated these guys for most IDM



About The SCP Organization


SCP artifacts pose a significant threat to global security. Various agencies from around the world operate to maintain human independence from extra-terrestrial, extra-dimensional, and extra-universal threat. In the past humankind has been at the whim of these bizarre artifacts and similar phenomena, but we have now reached a point in history where we can begin to control and contain these defiances of natural law.


You are now working for the SCP Foundation. You have no need to understand how or why we operate. What you do need to understand is how vital your mission is.


Our Goals


Observe preternatural phenomena and develop new theories of science based on their observable behavior.

Contain potentially dangerous phenomena

Develop safety procedures for dealing with all future phenomena

Observe, detain, and destroy any one or any thing preventing us from accomplishing the above-stated goals.

SCP Reports

One of the most essential functions of the Foundation is to compile and consolidate information about artifacts in our possession, or observed outside of our scope of influence.


Special Containment Procedures are required for each and every observed phenomena. It is amongst your top priorities to assist the higher-level officers in the research required for the composition of these reports. These reports are the foundation of the Foundation.


Also, it is imperative that these documents never leak to the public. If they are verified and traced back to the source by a party not privy to this information, it could spell disaster for the Foundation and all SCP artifacts currently under our control.


Note from General Bowe

My office and commission have determined that in the event of an intelligence leak the best way to handle it would be to utilize the dissemination method and discredit the initial leak by compiling poorly-written works of fiction in the same vein. When our addenda are obviously false, the intelligence link will be dismissed as well.


Note from Dr. ███████

It is worth noting that in spite of General Bowe's extensive access to our computer records, the General does not dictate Foundation policy.


my favourite SCPs so far:

Item #: SCP-914


Object Class: Safe


Special Containment Procedures: Only personnel who submit a formal request and receive approval from site command may operate 914. SCP-914 is to be kept in research cell 109-B with two guard personnel on duty at all times. Any researchers entering 109-B are to be accompanied by at least one guard for the entirety of testing. A full list of tests to be carried out must be given to all guard personnel on duty; any deviation from this list will result in termination of testing, forcible removal of personnel from 109-B, and formal discipline at site command’s discretion.


WARNING: At this time, no testing of biological matter is allowed. Refer to document 109-B:117. Applying the “Rough” setting to explosive materials is not advised.


Description: SCP-914 is a large clockwork device weighing several tons and covering an area of eighteen square meters, consisting of screw drives, belts, pulleys, gears, springs and other clockwork. It is incredibly complex, consisting of over eight million moving parts comprised mostly of tin and copper, with some wooden and cloth items observed. Observation and probing have showed no electronic assemblies or any form of power other than the “Mainspring” under the “Selection Panel”. Two large booths 3mx2.1mx2.1m (10ftx7ftx7ft) are connected via copper tubes to the main body of SCP-914, labeled “Intake” and “Output”. Between them is a copper panel with a large knob with a small arrow attached. The words Rough, Coarse, 1:1, Fine, and Very Fine are positioned at points around the knob. Below the knob is a large “key” that winds the “mainspring”.


When an object is placed in the Intake Booth, a door slides shut, and a small bell sounds. If the knob is turned to any position and the key wound up, SCP-914 will “refine” the object in the booth. No energy is lost in the process, and the object appears to be in stasis until the Output Booth door is opened. Intense observation and testing have not shown how SCP-914 accomplishes this, and no test object has ever been observed inside SCP-914 during the “refining” process. The process takes between five and ten minutes, depending on the size of the object being refined.


Addendum: 5/14: Dr. █████ Test Log


Input: 1kg of steel (setting: Rough)


Output: Pile of steel chunks of various sizes, appearing to be cut by laser.


Input: 1kg of steel (setting: 1:1)


Output: 1kg of steel screws


Input: 1kg of steel (setting: Fine)


Output: 1kg of steel carpet tacks


Input: 1kg of steel (setting: Very Fine)


Output: Several gases that dissipated into the air quickly, and 1 gram of an unknown metal, resistant to heat of 50,000 degrees, impossible to bend or break with any force, and a near-perfect (1.6x10-75 ρ) conductor of electricity


Input: 1 wristwatch belonging to Dr. █████ (setting: Coarse)


Output: 1 completely disassembled wristwatch


Input: 1 cellphone belonging to ███████ (setting: 1:1)


Output: 1 cellphone, although different make and model


Input: 1 standard Colt Python revolver (setting: Very Fine)


Output: [DATA EXPUNGED] Aforementioned ████████████ completely disintegrated all matter in its line of fire. Object contained with high density gamma waves.


Input: 1 white mouse (setting: 1:1)


Output: 1 brown mouse


Input: 1 chimp (setting: Fine)




Input: 1 chimp (setting: Rough)


Output: Badly mutilated corpse, showing signs of crushing and cutting with high heat


Document # 109-B:117: Dr.███ and Dr.███████ Test Log


Input: Subject D-186, male Caucasian, 42 years old, 108kg, 185cm tall. (setting: 1:1)


Output: Male Hispanic, 42 years old, 100kg, 188cm tall. Subject was very confused and agitated. Subject attacked security personnel. Subject terminated.


Input: Subject D-187, male Caucasian, 28 years old, 63kg, 173cm tall. (setting: Very Fine)


Output: [DATA EXPUNGED]. Subject escaped from test chamber, killing eight guards as well as Dr.███ and Dr.███████. Lockdown initiated. Subject causes containment failure of three SCP areas in continued escape attempt. Special response team engages subject, resulting in severe wounding of subject, partial memory loss in special response team members and corrosive damage to plumbing. Subject expired several hours later, dissolving into blue ash and blinding nearby research team.


Biological testing with SCP-914 discontinued.

further testing in experiment log 914


Item #: SCP-261

Object Class: Safe


Special Containment Procedures: Any access to SCP-261 must be approved by staff with level 2 security clearance or higher. Any and all items dispensed by SCP-261 must be recorded, along with the amount of money entered and the amount of time elapsed between uses. Currently, SCP-261 may be used only ten times in a twenty-four hour period, with no transaction exceeding the equivalent of 500 Japanese yen. Testing approved by Site Command is not under these restrictions.


Items dispensed by SCP-261 should be reviewed by Site Health and Safety officials before consumption. Failure to do so releases the Foundation from any obligation regarding negative effects. Items deemed dangerous or useful to research will be confiscated by site security, with financial compensation provided in proportion to money spent.


Description: SCP-261 appears to be a large black vending machine with no front glass panel, and a small keypad on the right side. SCP-261 was recovered in Yokohama, Japan. SCP-261 was brought to the Foundation’s attention after investigation of an “urban legend” about a “magic vending machine” that was circulating on the internet. SCP-261 was found in a back alley behind a large shopping center, with a hand-written sign saying “out of order” in Japanese taped to it. SCP-261 has no marks or identification of any kind, and no locals remember when or how it came to be in its current location.


Internally, SCP-261 appears to be a basic vending machine equipped to vend food and beverage items. After a key was made and the front door opened, no abnormal materials were found, and it was determined that SCP-261 has never actually contained any food or beverage items. The keypad, while connected and operating correctly, does not activate any of the dispensing mechanisms.


When money is placed into SCP-261 and a three-digit number is entered on the keypad, SCP-261 will vend a random item. SCP-261 has not accepted any currency other then Yen, with rejected currency being deposited in the coin return slot. It is unknown how these items appear; however, SCP-261 will not operate when the door is open, or when recording devices are placed inside. The number entered on the keypad has no effect on the item vended, nor has any pattern been detected. Items are always some form of “snack food”, and typically have bright, attention-grabbing packaging.


SCP-261 is capable of operating with no external power supply, but operation in this state will cause “unstable” vending to occur much more quickly than normal. If SCP-261 is used several times in a short period of time and/or large amounts of money are entered before an item is vended, SCP-261 will start to dispense bizarre items. While still “food”, their suitability for human consumption is often non-existent.


Log of items vended during Testing Phase 8:

800 yen entered for each item, items being dispensed every 2 minutes. SCP-261 is attached to power.


“Coke Zero” – A can of diet Coke, packaging in English.


“Cheetos” – A small bag of Cheetos snack food, packaging in English.


“Black Black” – A single pack of caffeinated chewing gum, packaging in Japanese.


“Yan Yan” – A single Yan Yan cone, with peach dipping frosting, packaging in Japanese. The Meiji Seika Company does not produce this flavor.


“Pepsi: Dragon Twist” – A can of Pepsi cola, with a trace of fruit flavor, packaging in English. Flavor identified as Dragon Fruit. PepsiCo does not produce this product.


“Darkside Cola” – A “can” with clear plastic sides, packaging in Japanese. Liquid inside is clear. When opened, liquid appears to react to the air, and changes to dark black over a period of several seconds. The black coloration “looks like billowing smoke”, and cannot be reversed. Liquid’s taste described as “cola, with something spicy in it.”


“The Little Bakery: 7 Grain” – A small tube the size of a candy bar with a green button, made of aluminum, packaging in English. When the top is twisted off, a mass of “dough” is extruded. “Dough” contains several enzymes and bacteria that have not yet been identified. On contact with air, these cause the dough to rise and “bake”, killing the microbes in the process. Produces a small, round loaf of bread weighing 250 grams. Taste described as good, but chewy.


“Lemon Clams” – Thick plastic baggie with a plastic tube on the side, containing water and twelve clams, packaging in Dutch. Following on-package instructions, the plastic tube was cracked like a “glow stick”. Liquid in the bag flashed to steam, venting from a hole that popped open in the top of the bag, slightly burning one researcher. Steaming finished after thirty-eight seconds, after which clams were found to be fully cooked and infused with a mild lemon flavor. On investigation, clams match no recorded species.


“<Unknown>” – Small mesh bag filled with small, multi-colored pyramids, packaging in an unknown language. Pyramids found to be very hard and unpleasant tasting, compared to chalk in taste and consistency. When placed in hot water, pyramids open and produce “strings” that quickly dissolve, coloring the water the same shade as the pyramid. Water had no additional taste, but testing revealed a sharp increase in mineral, carbohydrate, and protein content, with several minerals unidentified at the present time. This content was found to be consistent with the recommended daily intake of nutrients for adult humans. Researcher ingesting the water reported stomach cramps two hours later, but no other effects.


“<Unknown>” – Aluminum box with a small glass window on the side, and a large round button on the top, packaging in an unknown language. Box is seamless, and appears to be filled with small, round animals covered in fur, each with three small paws and a single large eye. Pressing the button causes the inside of the box to rapidly become super-heated, cooking the small animals alive. Muffled noises and scratching were heard for several seconds during the cooking process. After one minute, thirty seconds, the front panel opens and gives access to the now-cooked animals. Professor Kain volunteered to eat the animals, with no other researchers willing to do so. Taste described as crunchy and very spicy, with a small hint of beef.


“<Unknown>” – tall, thin aluminum can, packaging in an unknown language. Opening the can caused a chemical reaction with the liquid inside the can. Liquid was apparently not intended for an oxygenated atmosphere, and detonated violently, causing several injuries and killing two researchers. Testing discontinued, and area cleared. Testing area observed to smell like citrus for several days.

further testing in experiment log 261-ad-de


but the whole site is fried gold. i've wasted many hours on here these last few weeks.

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it used be worse; i'm working on an SCP at the moment and have been chatting with a few regs over there. they have fairly high quality control - totally necessary or the place would be fucking ruined. SCP-999 is great too - basically a TICKLE MONSTER :emotawesomepm9:



Item #: SCP-999


Object Class: Safe


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-999 is allowed to freely roam the facility should it desire to, but otherwise must stay in its pen. Subject is not allowed out of its pen at night or off facility grounds at any time. Pen is to be kept clean and food replaced twice daily. All personnel are allowed inside SCP-999’s holding area, but only if they are not assigned to other tasks at the time, or if they are on break. Subject is to be played with when bored and spoken to in a calm, non-threatening tone.


Description: SCP-999 appears to be a large, amorphous, gelatinous mass of translucent orange slime, weighing about 54 kg (120 lbs) with a consistency similar to that of peanut butter. Subject’s size and shape constantly change, though most of the time its form is the size of a large beanbag chair. Composition of SCP-999 is oil-based, but consists of a substance unknown to modern science. Other than a thin, transparent membrane surrounding the orange mass, subject appears to have no other organs to speak of.


Subject’s temperament is best described as playful and dog-like: when approached, SCP-999 will react with overwhelming elation, slithering over to the nearest person and leaping upon them, “hugging” them with a pair of pseudopods while nuzzling the person’s face with a third pseudopod, all the while emitting high-pitched gurgling and cooing noises. The surface of SCP-999 emits a pleasing odor that differs with whomever it is interacting with. Recorded scents include chocolate, fresh laundry, bacon, roses, and Play-Doh™.


Simply touching SCP-999’s surface causes an immediate euphoria, which intensifies the longer one is exposed to SCP-999, and lasts long after separation from the creature. Subject’s favorite activity is tickle-wrestling, often by completely enveloping a person from the neck down and tickling them until asked to stop (though it does not always comply with this request).


While the creature will interact with anyone, it seems to have a special interest in those who are unhappy or hurt in any way. Persons suffering from crippling depression, after interacting with SCP-999, have returned completely cured with a very positive outlook on life. The possibility of marketing SCP-999’s slime as an antidepressant has been discussed.


In addition to its playful behavior, SCP-999 seems to love all animals (especially humans), refusing to eat any meat and even risking its own life to save others, even leaping in front of a person to take a bullet fired at them. (Subject’s intellect is still up for debate: though its behavior is infantile, it seems to understand human speech and most modern technology, including guns.) The creature’s diet consists entirely of candy and sweets, with M&M’s™ and Necco™ wafers being its favorites. Its eating methods are similar to those of an amoeba.


Addendum SCP-999-A: The following is a report from an experiment in which SCP-682 is exposed to SCP-999 in the hopes that it will curb the creature’s omnicidal rage.


SCP-999 is released into SCP-682’s containment area. SCP-999 immediately slithers towards SCP-682.


999: (elated gurgles)


682: (unintelligible groans, growling) What is that?


SCP-999 moves in front of SCP-682, jumping up and down in a dog-like manner while calling out in a high-pitched squealing noise.


682: (groans) Disgusting…


SCP-682 immediately steps on SCP-999, completely flattening SCP-999. Observers were about to abort the experiment when SCP-682 started talking again.


682: (grunts) Hmmm? (unintelligible) what is this… (low noise, similar to light chuckle) I feel all… tingly inside…


SCP-999 can be seen crawling up from between SCP-682’s toes, up along its side and around its neck, where it clings on and begins gently nuzzling with its pseudopod. A wide grin slowly spreads across SCP-682’s face.


682: (deep chuckling) I feel… so… happy. Happy… (laughs) happy… happy…


SCP-682 repeats the word “happy” for several minutes, laughing occasionally before escalating into nonstop laughter. As laughter continues, SCP-682 rolls around on its back, slamming its tail upon the floor with dangerous force.


682: (bellowing laughter) Stop! No tickling! (continues laughing)


SCP-682 and SCP-999 continue the “tickle fight” until SCP-682 finally wears down and appears to fall asleep with what would appear to be a smile on its face. After fifteen minutes with no activity, two D-Class personnel enter the room to retrieve SCP-999. When SCP-999 is removed, SCP-682 immediately wakes up and unleashes an unidentifiable wave of energy from its body, all the while laughing maniacally.


All persons within the wave’s range collapse into crippling fits of laughter, allowing SCP-682 to escape and slaughter all in its path. Meanwhile, SCP-999 quickly rescues as many persons as it can, taking them to a safe place to recover from SCP-682’s "laughter wave" while agents suppress and recontain SCP-682.


Despite the tragedy that SCP-682 had brought upon the facility, SCP-999 has not shown any fear towards the creature and in fact has made gestures suggesting it wants to “play” with SCP-682 again. SCP-682, however, has stated, “That feculent little snot wad can [DATA EXPUNGED] and die."


Memo from Dr. ████: “While the test was unsuccessful and ended in tragedy, that had to be the funniest thing I have ever seen. I never thought I’d see the day when I would regard SCP-682 as “cute”. Please send me a copy of the security tapes ASAP.”


SCP-173, the origin of the site (via 4chan's /x/):

Item #: SCP-173

Object class: Euclid


Special Containment Procedures: Item SCP-173 is to be kept in a locked container at all times. When personnel must enter SCP-173's container, no fewer than 3 may enter at any time and the door is to be relocked behind them. At all times, two persons must maintain direct eye contact with SCP-173 until all personnel have vacated and relocked the container.


Description: Moved to Site19 1993. Origin is as of yet unknown. It is constructed from concrete and rebar with traces of Krylon brand spray paint. SCP-173 is animate and extremely hostile. The object cannot move while within a direct line of sight. Line of sight must not be broken at any time with SCP-173. Personnel assigned to enter container are instructed to alert one another before blinking. Object is reported to attack by snapping the neck at the base of the skull, or by strangulation. In the event of an attack, personnel are to observe Class 4 hazardous object containment procedures.


Personnel report sounds of scraping stone originating from within the container when no one is present inside. This is considered normal, and any change in this behaviour should be reported to the acting HMCL supervisor on duty.


The reddish brown substance on the floor is a combination of feces and blood. Origin of these materials is unknown. The enclosure must be cleaned on a bi-weekly basis.

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it used be worse; i'm working on an SCP at the moment and have been chatting with a few regs over there. they have fairly high quality control - totally necessary or the place would be fucking ruined.

Even with the occasional lame page it is pretty well done, especially by the standards of wikis frequented by 4chan (which usually come off like monkeys screaming & flinging feces at each other).

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Guest Funktion

not to get all hipster about this, but what is generally regarded as the point at which SCP stopped being good is when that one with the spiky hair and flame sword or whatever it was came into existence, my memory is pretty hazy about which one it is. having said that though, some of them are really chilling.

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Guest Funktion

it's fiction that people write in a really x-filesy way that describes the procedures for dealing with SCP-xxxs whatever number it is, some of them are really creative and fucked up.

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