 Item number SCP-368. Object Class. Safe. Special Containment Procedures. SCP-368 is not yet warranted any need for containment, though it has the movement patterns and behavior common to a normal bird. Neither it nor any of its copies have shown any desire to migrate from the offices in which they are stored. Description. SCP-368 is an animate origami crane folded from ornate heavy stock paper. Left to its own devices, it will perch, preen, fly from platform to platform, groom, and occasionally construct a makeshift nest out of nearby office supplies. It responds to human touch affectionately, much as a domesticated bird would. The item's demeanor is, on the whole, friendly, and it has been observed to perch on the shoulders of various SCP personnel. Though the item needs no source of nourishment, it appears to sleep at night, in that it places its head under its wing. Studying the physical properties of SCP-368 is proven difficult. The item seems to interpret attempts to capture or contain it as a game, and has displayed considerable agility and resourcefulness in evading the most focused attempts of containment. How SCP-368 stays airborne and maintains its stability while airborne are still not known. History. SCP-368 was discovered in an office building in Japan in 19- Now employed as 14-1158, a former employee at the aforementioned building, found the item in a closet full of office supplies. Upon discovery of SCP-368, 14-1158 managed to gain its trust in order to move it to a more secure location. Psychological evaluations of 14-1158 indicated her to be of sufficient mental stability and acuity to warrant a position within the SCP organization. Cross SCP Warnings. It is recommended that SCP-368 be isolated from SCP-529 and SCP-530, as contact will almost certainly alarm all three SCPs. Addendum 022. On date undisclosed, while housed in Research Sector 15, SCP-368 began displaying unusual behavior. Instead of its normal routine of human interaction, grooming, and play, it began hovering over a photocopier, flattening itself whenever SCP Personnel approached. Dr. Wang placed SCP-368 into the photocopier and made a copy, upon which another sheet of paper of identical pattern but different hue emerged from the copier and promptly folded itself into a shape mimicking that of the original. SCP-368 in the new specimen, referred to as SCP-368 Alpha, resumed usual behavior. Since then, SCP-368 has displayed similar behavior at intervals varying between two and four years, while the copies have shown no such behavior. Though initially Overseer O, disallowed any employee from aiding in the reproduction of SCP-368, and Dr. Wang was reprimanded for his action, remarkably high employee morale at Research Sector 15 led to the introduction of the progeny of SCP-368 at further SCP facilities. Item Number SCP-350 Object Class Safe Special Containment Procedures When not under experimentation, SCP-350 should be contained within a locked storage unit. No personnel other than those undergoing experimentation with SCP-350 should be allowed to sign SCP-350, no matter what might be offered in exchange. Those who have signed SCP-350 should be allowed to fulfill the terms of SCP-350 until the terms conflict with Foundation interests, at which point they should be restrained or terminated as necessary. Any staff member above level 3 caught signing SCP-350 for any reason must be immediately terminated. Description SCP-350 appears to be a single-page contract followed by 49 blank sheets. The contract outlines a basic exchange of a good or service, in exchange for a small amount of money wired to a numbered account at Bank in Zurich, Switzerland. The wording of SCP-350 is different to every reader prior to signature, and the good or service offered is always something the subject has expressed great desire to obtain. The document is also always in the native language of the reader, and conforms to the laws of the nation in which the subject makes their primary residence. Attempts to use video or photography to get an objective image of SCP-350 at this stage have failed, as the text continues to vary from person to person. Upon signing of SCP-350, the variable language property of the contract ceases, and the text of the contract stays in the language of the owner of the signature on the document to all readers. The subject will invariably find the object or proof of service shortly after exiting SCP-350's containment unit, always in a location without direct surveillance. Should the signatory of SCP-350 fulfill the terms of the contract, and wire the money to the bank account, SCP-350 begins to add new amendments and terms starting from the second page, most of which demand a minor service of some form from the signatory. However, the complexity of the terms and demands increases with the number of amendments fulfilled, eventually reaching extremes including but not limited to the murder of staff members, the removal of SCP-350 from Foundation containment, and even data expunged. Should the signatory not fulfill the original or new terms of SCP-350 for any reason for a full week, they will begin to feel unnoticeable urge to complete the current task. This grows into a compulsion on the order of the ticks of those suffering from severe obsessive-compulsive disorder. Should the subject be prevented from completing the terms at this point, the subject will begin to lie, steal, kill, and take other extreme actions to attempt to fulfill the demands of the contract. Psychological analysis at this point reveals nothing, as the subject is utterly fixated on completing the task, to the exclusion of all else. If the subject is restrained from completing the task, the subject will resort to constant escape attempts, refusing to eat, drink, or sleep. Subjects will die unless placed on intravenous fluids and forced into a chemically induced coma. At this point, their metabolism and bodily functions will begin to speed up until the subject dies from either a heart attack or the inability of intravenous therapy equipment to keep up with the metabolism. Item number SCP-211 Object Class Safe Special Containment Procedures Because of the suburban location of SCP-211, the surrounding neighborhood has been vacated through intentional introduction of pollutive industry and redistricting to promote nimby sentiment. In addition, the property surrounding SCP-211 is currently under foundation management and an armed guard has been stationed in the buildings. Unauthorized personnel entering the area are to be terminated on site. A series of explosive charges has been set within SCP-211 and is to be examined every day for degradation. Should SCP-211 become overtly hostile or neutralization is otherwise requested, it is to be terminated by detonating these charges simultaneously. To avoid inadvertent activation of SCP-211's defense mechanisms, extraction of SCP-211-1 should take place at a rate of fewer than f***ing pages per hour. Description SCP-211 is a two-story building located in an abandoned district of Indiana. Records from undisclosed archives heavily suggest that the building was originally a middle-class dwelling belonging to GS since deceased of natural cause. Since then, all furnishings have disappeared, save standard light fixtures and a radiator pictured above. Note that several of these light switches have not been discovered, rendering them useless. Additionally, the building's topography has been nearly completely covered with an estimated f***ing sheets of paper, hereafter collectively designated as SCP-211-1. Given these facts, SCP-211 itself is in remarkably poor condition. Severe mold and grime contamination are threatening to collapse a large section of the second floor, and the attempted May 4th demolition has left a large hole in the south wall of the building. Recovered sheets of SCP-211-1 may be of various aspects and origins. Blank, depicting various images, ripped pages from books, most often encyclopedias or novels, printouts from the internet, etc. The paper may be of any color. In fact, the above picture is of the only hallway in which all sheets are printed on white paper. Entire stacks of paper have been discovered in the building's basement, whose individual sheets bear little or no relation to each other. Their only real identifying characteristic is that individual sheets' edges are unusually sharp, and that should a portion of SCP-211-1 be removed, more sheets appear from unknown origin as replacement. Research is pending, but so far, individually. SCP-211-1's constituent parts seem to have little purpose, beyond and defense. Document 211-01 SCP status for SCP-211 was established after the building was condemned and scheduled for demolition on the 4th of May, 2001, when the building attacked the team, hereafter labeled Incident Zero. The following is an interview of ER, one of four survivors, conducted by Dr. Spinoza. Begin log. Dr. Spinoza, please state your name and occupation. Interviewee. ER. Employed at- construction. Well, former employee. Can't exactly do my job with one crippled leg, now can I? Dr. Spinoza, my sympathies. Please discuss the events involving the attempted destruction of data expunged. ER. Well, we... construction, that is. We're commissioned to destroy that thing, so we set about finding the best way to do it. We pretty much ruled out undermining for some reason. Something to do data expunged. Main thing is management decides to just use a couple of bulldozers to level the thing. Dr. Spinoza, was there any action on the part of the building before you attempted demolition? ER. Not really. We went in there after all, making tests and all that. Found the mold, joked about all that paper all over the place. Only thing that really happened before we started was... Yeah, when we were in the basement and someone else, I forget who. Started ripping pages from the wall, just to check how bad the mold was. Big stack of the stuff suddenly drops from the ceiling, out of nowhere, on top of the guy, and he gets a nice bunch of paper cuts. Thing that got us, though? His gear was all cut up as all hell. I mean, clothing, hat, glasses, what have you? All nicked up, had a big damn gouge in his glasses. Damn good thing he was wearing those glasses, I tell you. Dr. Spinoza, and then... ER. Well, we didn't like being in a big house of knives, you know? So we got him out of there. Other than that, besides, well, you know, nothing else happened. Dr. Spinoza, and on May 4th... ER. Well, we had everything set up, and started driving a pair of bulldozers towards the house, when all of a sudden all that paper on that one wall, outside, right? Well, it all just falls off by itself. Now, I should tell you, that day there wasn't a breeze in the air at all. So we thought that, well, the building's destroying itself and stuff, and we decided to help it along, and all of a sudden there's a big rumble, one you can hear over the bulldozers, and all that paper flies into the air by itself, and tears up everything in sight. End of interview. End log. Document 211-02. Subsequent to incident zero, testing was taken to determine the responsiveness of SCP-211. D-class personnel were issued a video camera, in order to interact with SCP-211 in various ways. Video log 1. Subject D-19905 ordered to approach and explore SCP-211. Result. No response. D-19905 interacted with SCP-211-1 without threat. Building map of first floor made with camera footage. Video log 2. Subject D-19905 ordered to approach and extract a sheet of SCP-211-1. Result. No response. Page appears to be- Video log 3. Subject D-19905 ordered to approach and extract a pile of SCP-211-1 near SCP-211's entrance. Result. Before extracting the target, D-19905 hesitates and examines a large poster on the wall near it. When questioned, D-19905 remarks that it's a painting that he made while incarcerated at- and proceeds to pick it up without incident. When D-19905 picks up the target, a pile of SCP-211-1 falls over, landing on him. D-19905 emerges, suffering lacerations to arms, legs, and face, but manages to extract the collection from SCP-211. Video log 4. Subject D-19905 ordered to approach SCP-211 and explore second floor. Result. D-19905 enters building via Incident Zero Hole without incident. Upon entering contaminated area, D-19905 steps on a weakened part of the floor, which collapses. D-19905 exits building with a broken leg. Well, at least we know we can destroy it if we need to. Dr. Spinoza. Video log 5. Subject D-21938 issued a pack of matches and ordered to light a sheet of SCP-211-1 within SCP-211 on fire. Result. Data expunged. Remains removed from door, but main entrance to SCP-211 is now blocked, leaving the Incident Zero Hole as the only entrance. Let's not try that one again, all right. I mean, ugh. Dr. Spinoza. Addendum 211-01. Since collection of SCP-211-1 has begun, several specific books have become identified as their origin. Examples of these are as follows. A 19-word copy of Hitler's Mein Kampf, found in an undisclosed public library. A Java data structures book, printed in 19... discovered in a used bookstore near Site-17. Currently stored in the United States Library of Congress. Three printouts of Japanese broadcasts decoded during the Magic Crypt Analysis Project in World War II. The drawing in document 211-02, etc. No documents regarding the foundation have been discovered as of yet. However, security has been increased as a mild informational security threat. Addendum 211-02. Recent unexplained phenomena regarding SCP-211 have provoked further study. On the 28th of March, three individual sheets of SCP-211-1 were found in SCP-211's entrance. Examination of these sheets proved to be Foundation Protocol Memoranda, addressed to Dr. Spinoza, the interviewer of the previously mentioned ER. Upon questioning, Spinoza, who had been at Site-17 regarding another project, noted that the notices had disappeared soon after he received them, adding that data expunged. Since this date, there have been other data security breaches involving SCP-211-1, several of which involve SCP-211 as subject material. Upgrade to Euclid status pending. Item number, SCP-175. Object Class, SAFE. Special Containment Procedures. SCP-175 is to be kept in a metal safe when not undergoing testing. The safe is to be secured in a storage room at Site-1 with other low-maintenance SCPs. The room will be guarded by two security guards at all times, in accordance with Security Protocol data expunged. Description. When not active, SCP-175 resembles a yellowed piece of parchment, slightly larger than a standard piece of paper. The edges are torn, and it appears weathered in brittle. However, SCP-175 is actually quite supple and is indestructible, despite its worn appearance, having resisted all attempts to remove pieces for testing. The more interesting properties of SCP-175 are revealed when moved in relative proximity to a buried object. The proximity range seems to vary under unknown parameters. SCP-175 has become active in distances from as short as 30 meters to as far as several kilometers. However, on average, the distance ranges between 100 and 200 meters. When SCP-175 becomes active, its appearance changes to become either a map, a set of directions to the buried object, or some hybrid thereof. Though the approximate size and shape of SCP-175 remains constant, its appearance may change to resemble various other paper and parchment varieties, and the writing or drawing implement in style vary as well, seemingly based on the mindset of the individual or individuals who buried the object. If the buried object is dug up, or the map is removed from the proximity of the object, SCP-175 reverts back to its normal state. Document No. 175-08 Partial list of barriers, buried objects, and appearances of SCP-175. All experiments took place at data-expunged, unless otherwise stated. Dr. Wrook buried a wooden box. SCP-175 became a piece of graph paper with a pencil-drawn map of the surrounding area, complete with a legend in the bottom left. The location of the treasure was clearly marked. Dr. Wrook remarked that the handwriting on SCP-175 looked identical to his own. The 5-year-old female child of said doctor was instructed to bury a wooden box with a couple of her toys in it. SCP-175 became a crayon-drawn map of the surrounding area, on a white piece of paper, clearly modeled on the style of a normal child of that age. The 10-year-old male child of Agent Wrook was instructed to bury a box containing some of his comic books. SCP-175 became a list of instructions on lined yellow paper, based on several landmarks in the area. Trees, rocks, etc. The instructions included where to start and how many paces to take to the next landmark, the direction to turn, and eventually, where to dig. The instructions were complete with misspellings appropriate for the knowledge of a child of that age. A well-respected professional landscape artist was instructed to bury an empty wooden box. SCP-175 became a canvas, with an accurately painted overhead view of the surrounding area, with an X to mark the spot where the box was buried. A professional puzzle maker and crossword puzzle maker was instructed to bury a wooden box. SCP-175 became a piece of graph paper, with several inked crossword and various other word puzzles, along with a meta puzzle. Solving the smaller puzzles was necessary to find the letters to solve the meta puzzle, which was a list of instructions for where to find the buried object. Agent Wrook, who remembered a box with various objects that he had buried in his backyard at the age of eight, traveled with a research team to data expunged. SCP-175 became a pencil-drawn map of the surrounding area, along with labels that did not match his current handwriting, but did match his handwriting from papers his parents had kept that he had done at that age. Most remarkably, the map included several trees that had been cut down in the years since the box was buried. A D-class personnel who had been a professional architect before his conviction as a serial killer was instructed to bury a wooden box. Data Expunged During transport of SCP-175, along with numerous other safe SCPs to data expunged, one of the guards in the truck reported a high-pitched wine coming from the crate containing SCP-175. As per protocol, the truck was stopped and evacuated, and the nearest task force, Mobile Task Force Omega-7, Pandora's Box, was sent to investigate after being briefed on the contents of the crate. According to the debrief, they found a sheet of metal which was emitting the wine, and the sound increased in pitch and volume as they neared a specific location. Digging in this area uncovered SCP-175, at which point, the metal sheet reverted to the inactive state of SCP-175. Addendum 175-13 On a D-class personnel who had been a professional architect prior to his conviction as a serial killer, was instructed to bury a wooden box. The intended purpose of this experiment was to see what SCP-175 would look like when buried by an architect. When Dr. White looked at SCP-175, once the box was buried, he immediately screamed, dropped to his knees, clutching his head with both hands, dropping SCP-175 to the ground, luckily face down. Agent White, who was standing by the side of said doctor during this experiment, reported a flickering mass of color and a sense of extreme nausea at a glimpse of SCP-175 before it drifted to the ground. He quickly dug up the box in order to reset SCP-175. Dr. White went into a coma after this incident. An intense psychological screening of the D-class subject revealed a well-hidden schizophrenia and sociopathy. Since this experiment, strict protocol has been put in place to protect the mental health of researchers. Thank you for watching, and don't forget to like, comment, and subscribe to our channel.