 Item No. SCP-2571 Object Class Euclid Special Containment Procedures A Foundation-operated bot, I.O. Mandela, is to monitor online communities for discussions regarding SCP-2571. MTF-57, the Laughing Stock, is to investigate these discussions and make a determination for appropriate action on a case-by-case basis. SCP-2571 is a recurring childhood memory of a non-existent theme park, Craglewood Park. It is estimated that 0.05% of the world's population is affected by SCP-2571. However, recent evidence suggests this number may be growing. The primary vector for SCP-2571's spread is not yet known. Notably, it appears to be most common among adults raised as an only child. Afflicted subjects are initially responsive to amnestics, but memories regarding Craglewood will typically resurface once treatment ceases. Although descriptions of these memories vary, several details remain consistent. Subjects were between the ages of 4 and 12 when they visited. The park featured numerous characters, primarily centered around anthropomorphic variants of trees and plants. No adult supervision was present. Calliope music played throughout the park. Subjects attended the park with numerous other children, none of whom they knew. The park featured only one ride, a carousel or merry-go-round. Although children accompanied the subjects boarded this ride, the subjects themselves did not. Investigations regarding the precise nature of both SCP-2571 and Craglewood Park are ongoing. Addendum 2571.1 Interview Logs Date 06-16-2002 Interviewer Dr. Reiner Subject Rupert Dukasue Begin Log What do you recall about Craglewood Park? Jesus, is this what this is about? It's just this nightmare I used to have. Can you elaborate? I mean, I think it's… it probably based on some actual theme park I went to as a little kid, you know? Probably traumatized the shit out of me. What happens in the nightmare? I enter this theme park. It's like Disneyland but smaller. There's no rides just as long winding road through the woods. Everything's bright and colorful like in a cartoon, and there's these trees all around me but… Tell me about the trees. They've all got faces, and they're singing. They've got these dopey, cheerful looks, like at one of those old time cartoons, right? And they just sing and laugh and sing. Can you tell me anything else? There's this music that's playing everywhere. It's like organ music, but not the kind you hear in a church. More like the sort you would hear at a carnival. You mentioned before that there aren't any rides. Oh no, wait, no, I'm wrong. There's rides. There's one ride. Just one ride. It's that thing with horses that goes around in circles. You know what I'm talking about? A carousel. Right, that thing. It's where the organ music is coming from. Were you there alone? No, there's other kids with me. They're not happy to be there either. We're all smiling and laughing, but we're just doing it to stop ourselves from crying, you know? To fool the trees, so the trees don't see how scared we are. To keep the trees happy. Keep them happy. Yeah. Is there anything else you can tell us? Um, fuck, I don't know. I haven't dreamed about this place in ages. Uh, I think there's one bit near the end. Please relax. Take as much time as you need. Subject closes his eyes. Just as I am getting ready to leave, I see something. A tiny tree sprouting up near my foot. It looks up at me. It's smiling. Smiling with that big, dopey, happy grin. When I see it, that's when I start screaming. That's when I wake up. Why does that tree make you scream? Subject opens his eyes. Because it has my face. End log. Interview log. Date. February 9th, 2003. Interviewer. Dr. Rainer. Subject. Janine Yeerling. Begin log. Did you ever ride to Carousel? What? Hell no. Are you crazy? You reached it then. Some of the kids got on. Not me though. The ones who did. Some of them were smiling. Some of them were crying. Some of them hugged the ones who didn't get on. Some of them hugged each other. What happened then? They rode to Carousel. Then we left. What happened to them? How should I know? We left. You left them behind? Yes. We left them behind. Boy, you think we should have stuck around? See how this is all going to turn out? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to accuse you of anything. You were just a child. No one would have expected you to. That's right. I was just a goddamn child in the middle of a goddamn nightmare and I just… Subject shakes her head. I just… You have no idea what even talking about this is doing to me or how it's making me feel. I don't want to talk about it. I just want to forget it. Why can't you just let us… Subject lowers his head in the hands. I'm sorry. I just… I'm sorry to apologize, Mrs. Yerling. You've clearly gone through a deeply traumatizing experience. Subject sobs. I just… I just… I don't understand. I can't imagine you would. Nothing about this experience makes much sense. Not that. It's just… It's just… What is it? One of the kids… One of the kids that got on… Yes? Why… Why did he hug me? I didn't… I didn't even know who he was. Subject continues to sob. End log. Interview log. Date. June 12, 2004. Interviewer. Dr. Rainer. Subject. Randolph Blair. Begin log. I'd like to talk to you about the videocassette. Christ. I understand that this is… You people just don't get it. I don't want to discuss any of this with you. Fuck. I shouldn't have told my therapist any of this, that fucking bitch. Please Mr. Blair, I need you to focus. Get on with it. This cassette. Where did you get it from? I don't know. I don't fucking know. I found it in my attic when I was cleaning shit out. I thought it was just an old copy of Ghostbusters or something. Do you recognize any of the images on it? I don't know. Yeah. From nightmares. Bullshit like that. Maybe someone showed me the tape of the kid. Have you lived in this house your whole life? Yeah? You were raised in this house by your parents? Yeah, just going somewhere? The front bedroom? Look, I don't want to talk about this shit, okay? I understand, but we need to understand what's going on, Mr. Blair. Why is the front bedroom? I don't know. I don't fucking know. It's always just had shit in it, but nobody uses it. That's why I keep it locked, okay? I don't think about it. I understand, Mr. Blair. I just need to ask… Are we done? I just need to ask one more question. Whatever. Mr. Blair, have you always been an only child? Subject refuses to respond. End log. Note, the subject has refused to conduct any additional interviews. Addendum 2571.2 Video log Note, the following log describes the contents of a mini-video cassette found in the possession of Randolph Blair. The word cragglewood is written across its label in black felt tip marker. Begin log. One second. Heavy breathing. Five seconds. Shaky image of a gravel path heading through a forested region. Ten seconds. Distant Calliope music. Twenty-one seconds. View swivels to focus on other children walking down the path. Some move hand in hand. Thirty-two seconds. View points towards the gravel. Thirty-six seconds. Voice sobbing. Voice one whispering. I'm scared. Voice two whispering. Shhh. It's okay. It's okay. Don't cry. You have to smile. You have to. Fifty-five seconds. Distant singing. Voice two whispering. Smile. Smile please. Just smile. We'll be okay, I promise. I'll take care of... One minute. Two seconds. Static. One minute. Nine seconds. Blurred images. One minute. Ten seconds. Distorted singing and Calliope music. One minute. Fifteen seconds. Deep, cheerful laughter. One minute. Twenty seconds. Singing and music intensify. One minute. Twenty-five. Voice two whispering. Oh God. One minute. Twenty-six seconds. Static. One minute. Thirty seconds. Approximately a dozen children are standing around a carousel. One thirty-two. Voice one whispering. What's happening? One thirty-five. Voice two whispering. Shhh. Just. One thirty-nine. Singing intensifies. One forty-two. Voice two whispering. Oh God. One forty-five. Voice one whispering. What are they? What are they? One forty-eight. Voice two whispering. Listen you have to. One fifty-two. Few lowers to the gravel. One fifty-eight. Voice two. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You have to go. You have to. Two oh one. Voice one. No. You aren't. Two oh five. Singing intensifies. Sounds of children sobbing can be heard. Two oh eight. Voice two. Go. Please. I'm sorry. I'll be okay. Just. Two twelve. Static. Two twenty. View bobs frantically racing down a forest path. Two twenty-one. Heavy breathing. Two twenty-two. Distant singing. Two twenty-five. Voice one whispering. No. No. No. Two thirty. View lunges up then drops to the ground. The view is now centered on a face. Two thirty-five. Voice one. No. No. No. Please no. Please no. Two thirty-eight. The face looks up and smiles. Two forty-one. Voice one. No. No. No. Two forty-two. Voice two begins to sing. End log.