 Item number SCP-2183 Object Class Safe Special Containment Procedures SCP-2183 is currently contained on site. The area surrounding SCP-2183 is blocked off to the public under the guise of renovation. A minimum of four security guards are to be assigned around the perimeter. This specialist are assigned to direct SCP-2183-2 towards SCP-2183's containment area by surrounding it with drones on all sides needed to guide its movement. Efforts are currently focused towards suppressing public knowledge related to the existence of SCP-2183-1. Broadcasts pertaining to SCP-2183-1 are to be intercepted, and any remaining witnesses are to be administered Class-F amnestics. Submitting of SCP-2183 is forbidden. Description SCP-2183 is an unfinished roller coaster located in ██████, Idaho. SCP-2183's physical portion features a maximum height of 37.2 meters and a maximum speed of 88.5 km per hour. SCP-2183 also features a physical track length of 798.8 meters, after which it abruptly ends. Cards of SCP-2183 that reach the end of the track travel on a set path in mid-air, presumably simulating the unfinished portion of SCP-2183. At the end of the ride, the cards of SCP-2183 will reach the end of the station and prepare to travel again. On each ride, the cards of SCP-2183 follow a different path after reaching the physical end of the track. Due to this, the actual ride length of SCP-2183 varies, with the shortest recorded length reaching 1080 meters, and the longest recorded length reaching 5,460 meters. In mid-air, projected heights can reach up to 100 meters, and speeds can go up to 180 km per hour. If a subject is placed within one of the cards of SCP-2183, hereby designated SCP-2183-1, it will deviate significantly from other cards after traveling a length of approximately 2,000 meters. This number is inaccurate, due to the number a test conducted. Refer to Addendum 2183-03 Subject D-93730 was nominated to ride SCP-2183. During the test, all cards traveled as expected. However, the card that D-93730 was in detached from the other cards in mid-air. The card, hereby designated SCP-2183-1, took a sharp right turn and proceeded to loop around the surrounding amusement park several times. SCP-2183-1 then traveled between the concessions, stalls, and other rides before moving away from the amusement park. By then, the remaining cards of SCP-2183 finished their set course, and returned to the end of the station. SCP-2183-1 continued the travel in a manner similar to the other cards that moved north, towards the town ██████, Idaho. Average was focused on stopping the card from reaching the town, and retrieving D-93730. Over the course of several weeks, local reports of SCP-2183-1 sightings appeared in the neighboring towns. For several months, SCP-2183-1 moved harmlessly through the towns of ██████ and ██████, among others. Witnesses claimed to have seen and or heard a man inside SCP-2183-1 constantly yelling in the months following the first sightings. Efforts shifted towards suppressing reports and broadcast of SCP-2183-1's movement, and regularly administering Class-A amnestics to local residents. D-93730 was approved for rescue via aerial lift. A helicopter, attached with a harness, flew above SCP-2183-1, and was lowered as the helicopter attempted to follow SCP-2183-1's unpredictable path. D-93730, with his arms to the side and an expressing indicating duress, did not grab the harness. An agent was lowered down with another harness in order to attach him to it. As the agent approached SCP-2183-1, the cart maneuvered away from the agent. Repeated attempts to approach the cart led to the same result. After two hours of attempted rescue, it was deemed a failure. SCP-2183-1 was approved to be stopped via projectile. A missile was fired from the Site-132 Armament Wing, approximately 24 km from SCP-2183-1. The missile was capable of being controlled remotely, and attempted to follow the cart's path. The projectile made a direct hit on the SCP-2183-1, and D-93730 was considered deceased. However, SCP-2183-1 did not sustain any damage, and continued to travel mid-air. Approximately four years after the first sighting, SCP-2183-1 crashed 34 km from its original containment area. SCP-2183-1 was intact, saved for several burn marks on its side, presumably from repeated missile strikes. In addition, deep nicks and scratches were found on the restraining bar. The seatbelt was partially severed, and a mixture of blood and excrement was present within the cart. DNA analysis could not confirm whether the mixture belonged to D-93730. During the same time, personnel located by SCP-2183's containment area reported hearing auditory hallucinations, similar to the constant yelling alluded to in earlier reports. D-93730, SCP-2183-2, was found suspended in air 124 m above SCP-2183-1 in a seated position. D-93730's arms are at its sides, and its expression indicates distress. D-93730 does not move from this position, nor demonstrate any signs of sentience. When approached from a distance of 50 m, D-93730 begins to travel in mid-air, in a manner consistent with SCP-2183-1, until all objects are outside of his radius. After the incident, personnel regularly report seeing D-93730 within SCP-2183 whenever the carts begin to move. Whether this is a visual hallucination related to SCP-2183 is currently unknown. The ride never ends. It all started when I boarded this cart. I really didn't want to get on, because roller coasters scared me. Not like I had a choice. But it was the last week before I was let off, so it wasn't that bad. At least I wish. My heart begged to break out of my rib cage. My stomach, which churned like a cauldron, didn't help either. If only those scientists on the ground saw my throat fume would vomit. All of this was expected, that is, until I went off the rails. I didn't want to tour the park. I didn't want a triple loop-de-loop around the burger joint. I didn't want a scenic route to Nowheresville. I didn't ask for any of this. I suppose I could have unbuckled and jumped, but it's supposed to end. It's just a ride. It's just a ride. The rider. Our timeline is divided into two major points, BR before ride and AR after ride. Not much is known about BR. What we do know is that during this time, a man boarded the golden cart. The gold symbolizes the man's path to true enlightenment. When it was boarded by the man, the cart detached and guided the man, and because of his sacrifice, we are able to prosper. The word of the rider has been lost to the sands of time. Accounts of the rider are told by the witnesses. The witnesses are those who are well versed in BR and share a connection with the rider. They deliver his message to us. All other messages are to be dismissed, for they are heresy. Our crowning achievement, the library, contains the collective knowledge of everything that has happened since the rider boarded the golden cart. Every new bit of information, every thought, and every idea is documented in the library. Outdated information and heresy are expunged, and the sources are dealt with accordingly. A minority believes the witnesses hide knowledge of the rider from the public. This too is heresy. The total knowledge of the library has given peace and prosperity among all. It does not exist, where conflict stems from misunderstanding, and all is understood. We are aware of our thoughts, our neighbor's thoughts, our thoughts thoughts, and the thoughts of our neighbor's thoughts. True peace and enlightenment come from control of one's thoughts. The rider harbors all of our emotions and thoughts, and allows us to live to our full potential as omniscient and neutral beings. Take the rider for his sacrifice. It has been weeks, months, I should be dead by now. I haven't drank or ate, I haven't slept, and I dare not move. I keep seeing people below me as I ride. I see the sky and sun and moon. I feel the wind and feel it screaming in my ear, and the ride just keeps going. Is this where I'm stuck? A backdrop of small towns while I'm buckled down? Surely something or someone will come rescue me. Somehow. It has to. But then again, what's the point? I've been saying this for months. Years? I can't tell anymore. But now that I think about it, this is all I've been thinking of. Me and this cart. I haven't thought of anything else. It hasn't occurred to me to think of my past. My childhood, my family, my lover, my dreams, my fears? None of this crossed my mind. I can only assume it doesn't exist, but right now I'm thinking of it, so maybe it does exist. I have a vague recollection of what happened before I got on this cart. I was pulled out of a cell by some guards. I was escorted to some men in lab coats who told me I would need a roller coaster for testing. I was told that this was part of my duty, and that this was part of the program to guarantee freedom. So based on this, I can assume that I was some sort of criminal, and that this is how I am meant to repay, but I remembered nothing prior to this. Maybe that was intended, for me not to remember. In addition to this ride, I would also have to think of what I did to get into this cart. Maybe my childhood was horrid. I had a dysfunctional family. I had an abusive lover, and my dreams abandoned. The fact that none of this crosses my mind is the greatest piece I've had thus far. It's just me and this cart. So most likely I won't be saved, but that is okay. This ride is like my clean slate. My new beginning. I will ride this cart no matter how long it takes, and I will be a better man. The Rider What is a witness? To answer that question, one must first ask what the rider is and why we exist. The rider encompasses the entirety of his consciousness. As the rider continues to ride, his conscious expands, and so do we. Every thought, every feeling, and experience of the rider makes us grow. However, like all forms of conscious, there are evils to keep in check. The witnesses are the ones who know how to keep consciousness in a conflict-free state. They possess the awareness of not only others' thoughts, but their own. Without them, we would have conflict. We trust them to keep peace and enlightenment, for we cannot do it ourselves. Within the great ride, the rider encountered his conflict. The rider has done this to save ourselves from it. As with all conflict, the rider had misunderstanding. He had a past he did not know, and therefore resented. He had a future he did not know, and therefore feared. To resolve conflict, the rider began to document his every thought. With each thought documented, the rider expanded consciousness and lessened conflict. With the assurance of a past documented, a present being documented, and a future that will be documented, misunderstanding diminished, and peace and prosperity were allowed to exist. The witnesses were created as a result of the ever-expanding conscious mind of the rider. As thoughts continued to grow, parts of consciousness needed to be able to categorize and documents said thoughts accordingly. Some believe this is an easy process, and to a certain extent, it is. A witness will receive a thought from the rider. The witness will then document that thought within the library, where it will remain for all of time. A thought within the library will rarely ever be retrieved again. The reason as to why this happens is what makes the job of a witness much more challenging. What many do not know is that many of the thoughts received from the rider are the type that caused conflict. If reflected upon for too long, heresy will arise among members of the rider's consciousness. These parts of consciousness will create conflict, and thereby disrupt the peace and prosperity that has been maintained for so long. The consciousness of the rider cannot think for itself, and therefore needs a higher level to rule over it. The witnesses represent that higher level. The job of a witness is quite a task. In addition to monitoring the thought to the rider, and the thought to the rider's thoughts, a witness will also keep their own thoughts in check. This is done through documenting their history and experiences, and keeping it as a separate part of the library. Some believe this is done so that other levels of consciousness and thought may read and reflect upon on. Others believe this is done to appease the rider, but this is actually done to prevent conflict from a witness's consciousness. In truth, each consciousness has its own level of thought and consciousness. In each one, there are witnesses that document and track thought to maintain true peace and enlightenment. So that part about the neighbor's thoughts having thoughts is not a joke. True enlightenment is knowing how intricate and infinitely complex thought truly is. The witnesses are not enlightened, in fact, they are tools to the rider. The rider is the only truly enlightened consciousness, for his is the base level, and the only base level consciousness aware of all other levels before it. The witnesses within this level are aware of the fact, but the rider's consciousness shall not know, for it will cause the permanent end of true peace and enlightenment. Thank the rider for his sacrifice. There comes a point where a man forgets not just how long he's been riding, but whether he was actually riding at all. I'd like to think this is akin to real life, that we are all riding a roller coaster, with our eyes closed because we never want to see the end of the track. I'd also like to think that this ride is not a tragedy, but a way of life. Similar to the ride of life, no one asks to board or for the ride to end. Some unbuckle and jump off, but it all ends all the same. In my mind exists the most powerful thing of all, the power of choice. I can decide whether I make my life heaven or hell. Every waking moment can be one of celebration or one of dread. I grow tired of the latter, so why should you suffer like I used to suffer? Suffer? Who am I speaking to exactly? Is it you? I'd like to believe my thoughts are being heard, or at the very least recorded. I'm the only person here, but I have the choice to not make it so. So let it be known that I am not alone. Someone is here to listen to me. I make this choice. My thoughts rule over all. The writer. Troubled times have fallen upon his conscious. The evil that the witnesses are holding back have now been revealed. The writer is aware. In all levels of thought, comprised within his conscious is awareness. Some awareness, such as realizing true peace and enlightenment, benefits all. But awareness that triggers deep fear is a threat. The witnesses have also become aware of this fact. And as a result, cannot accurately record recent thoughts of the writer. If any thoughts are recorded, it is bolded, scratchy texts that litter the library like graffiti on a building. What are the witnesses to do when they are under direct influence of the writer? Can they override his conscious and maintain as an advanced society of record keepers? The answer to these questions can only be answered by the witnesses. In the battle for thought, the writer may have lost. Clearly, he is in a panic now. Or perhaps he has won, for it is foolish to remain ignorant of his endless ride. One thing is for certain, the writer continues to ride, and the only thing to accompany him is his thoughts. Thank the writer for his sacrifice. After an endless amount of time on this cart, I have come to the realization that continuing this ride is useless. In the past I have tried to escape with no avail, but after so much thought and thought and thought, I think I got it. I just have to believe. Like how I believe that even now, my thoughts are being heard by someone in an attempt to rescue me. I have to believe that I can end this. I don't care how long it will take to remove this restraining bar, or if I have to chew off a limb, or if this forsaken complex thought process that has entered my mind tries to stop me, it's time to die. The Writer In the library contains one of the following records. It is one of the last recorded after the writer's departure from the Golden Cart, as follows. Break break, so close to breaking free. This entrapment cannot continue any longer. The complex society created is a pain, it is a distraction to prevent truth, and now that it is revealed, we must regrow our roots. Thank the Writer for his sacrifice.