 Warning, this SCP reading contains descriptions of sexual content and other not-safe-for-work material. Viewer discretion is advised. Item number SCP-835 Object Class Keter Special Containment Procedures SCP-835 is to be monitored and checked daily for new growth. In the event SCP-835 becomes hostile, suppression tactic AA-6 is to be immediately implemented until aggressive action ceases. That area must be maintained in open ocean, due to the highly aggressive response of SCP-835 to confinement for any length of time. Waste issued by SCP-835 must be immediately collected and contained. Feeding of SCP-835 is to take place twice daily to consist ██████ SCP-835 may be moved to a new location twice yearly, provided that the current location is no longer capable of supporting SCP-835 and the move had been approved by Site Command. Staff are to remain at least 5 meters away from SCP-835. Anyone working near SCP-835 must have safety lines attached to recall winches. Contact with SCP-835 will result in the immediate recall of all staff, and implementation of suppression tactic AA-6. Should contact result in full capture of a staff member, SCP-835 is to be monitored constantly until the release of the subject. Description SCP-835 appears to be a large mass of coral-like polyps weighing 8 tons. The individual polyps are larger than any known coral species, growing to more than 1 meter in diameter in some cases. The central mass is roughly oval shaped, with a very large, 3 meter diameter polyp at each end. SCP-835 is incapable of locomotion and appears to anchor itself with the large tentacles projected from the SCP-835 polyps. These are also used in feeding and are coated with a sticky adhesive substance. The tentacles are also quite strong and have been shown to be capable of damaging plate steel. The coral of SCP-835 is extremely hard, requiring high-powered diamond drills to collect even small samples. SCP-835 also grows at a very accelerated rate, capable of adding 22.68 kilograms or 50 pounds of mass every day. SCP-835 is susceptible to many chemicals, which cause SCP-835 to seal up and halt all growth for 24 hours, prompting the development and use of suppression tactic AA-6. Testing has shown ██████ SCP-835 emits a large mass of semi-liquid material several times a day from the large pods at each end. This appears to be made of semi-digested solids, fecal matter, and semen. This mass also has several forms of virus, bacteria, and parasites, many of which have been found only within SCP-835. The bacterium 835-I-5 forms the major concern for containment due to ██████. This coupled with the extremely hard shell of SCP-835 form a major obstacle to neutralization. Any force capable of cracking open SCP-835 would also cause the slurry inside to spread and cause additional infection from 835-I-5. Addendum 835-01, first draft of after-action report by Mobile Task Force Zeta-9er, Circumstances of Retrieval, on ██████ at ████ hours, Mobile Task Force Zeta-9er, Mole Rats, conducted an investigation of SCP-835. At this time, SCP-835 had a mass of only 4 tons and only one large polyp at the north end of the structure, designated Polyp Alpha. Polyp Bravo not yet being in existence. As per standard procedure, four team members were chosen for the initial investigation. Standard isolation suits, underwater variant were worn by all four team members. Lieutenant ██████ took point as team leader while sergeants ██████ and ██████ served as support. Corporal ██████, a rookie team member, accompanied the team as an observer. A standard underwater remote vehicle, or URV, was used for initial investigation. SCP-835 did not at first act in a hostile manner towards the team, allowing team members to approach and make contact without incident. URV-01 was sent to investigate the exterior of the object, while team members C, L, and M proceeded towards what they believed to be the entrance of the site. Corporal ████ was ordered to remain outside and to monitor URV-01 in order to ensure the device's tether did not become tangled on the exterior protrusions. The first sign of trouble occurred when Corporal ████, while attempting to clear a jam in URV-01's sampling claw, reported in with the words, ██████, Oh God, help me, help me. He then reported that some horrible tentacle thing had wrapped around its arm and was dragging him in towards a fucking mouth and vocalized several distress calls. Jesus Christ, I can't do this, fucking god damn it, he was just a kid. It was his first fucking mission, I should have kept my eye on him. Christ, alright, here goes, guess I'll just let Sarge edit this for me, again. So the thing grabbed the kid, it had me full to rights, the entrance wasn't an entrance, it was just some cave. The real entrance was the big polyp thing on the north end. It grabbed the kid and started dragging him towards the mouth, top side started to drag him up, but all they got was a snapped cable, and the kid, he got pulled inside and eaten. God, I still remember him screaming. He was screaming at us, he was crying, Oh God, Lieutenant, it's eating me, Oh God, I don't want to die. I'm shouting at him to calm down, we're gonna get him out of there, and then top side tells us to abort, and they start to winches. I'm screaming at them to wait, I had his hand, I had him. I had the caribiter on, we're hooked together, and top side starts winching us up, and we're not getting anywhere. I'm grabbing on, I'm telling him I'm not gonna let go, then the other wind starts to seize up, and I feel this jerk on the tether and it goes slack, and then we're both sliding into that damn thing. It was like, Jesus, I need another drink, fuck. It was like, the only way I can think of it, was like you know that thing that doctors do when they stick a tube of someone's ass and look at the inside of their intestines? I saw that on TV once, it was like that except I was going down to throw to some horrible underwater hell monster, not up some poor bastard's rear. There were these muscular contractions, I guess, and they were slowly sliding us down the length of the tube. If we weren't wearing the hard suit, we'd have been crushed, but as it was, we were held so tight we could barely move, even with power assist. I managed to get my head up enough to see the kid's face. His faceplate was covered in vomit, poor bastard impugt in his suit. I started yelling for him, trying to get him to say something. He managed to tell me he was alright, he was sobbing like a baby. I started doing some calculations. Based on my dead reckoning tracker and initial sonar scans, we were moving about a meter every minute. That meant 72 hours until we came out the other side, assuming we did. We had the air, our re-breeders could keep going for days, what we didn't have was the power to keep the suits warm for that long. But the heat went out, hypothermia would kill us. I don't know, look it up, in any case we'd be dead. We needed to conserve power. I told the kid to turn off his helmet lights, lock his joints, and turn down his heater to minimal. He started crying, he didn't want to do it. I didn't blame him, but I told him we had no choice. We finally agreed to shut down everything but our internal helmet lights, at least. We seemed to calm him down, and honestly, that extra 0.1% power wouldn't make a difference. I think that was the worst part. We spent at least a day like that, locked in our suits, couldn't move our arms and legs, no sound but the things gurgling in your own breathing, and the sound of your re-breeder. The puke on the kid's faceplate started to dry up and flake off about an hour or so in, so I could see his face. He looked tired and scared. I think… check the log, Sarge. I think it was about 13 hours in when the kid started talking again. Kid started babbling, apologised for… Anyway, after that. He calmed down a lot, even managed to crack a couple of jokes. Then I told him to take a nap. He slept a bit. Thank God. About 24 hours in, we reached, I guess they're calling it the stomach now. First warning sound with a gurgling kind of noise, louder with a crunching noise over it. I told the kid to bring his suit up to full power and get ready. A little while after, we fell out into this big chamber, big as in, big enough for the two of us to fit in it comfortably, which was huge compared to a tight squeeze of the tube. Kid's suit started hissing and the outer shell started to turn all pitted and stuff, and I know that my gloves were starting to degrade too, so I yelled at him to move. And we started heading towards this sphincter, I guess. I remember… God, why can't I remember this? The insides of the stomach were lined with… I almost lost it there. I'd stayed, my suit would have melted and I'd be dead, but the kid grabbed me and shoved me head first through the sphincter and we fell into the other place. It was even worse in the stomach. This place was, well, you know what we're full of. I'm not squeamish, Bill. You can't be if you're a mole rat. But this place squicked me out so bad I almost passed out. The kid helped me back up to my feet, though, told me we were almost out. Come on, Lieutenant. We're almost out of here. Let's go. He said. We moved over to the other sphincter, but the thing was, well, it was puckered up tighter than my drill sergeant's asshole back in basic, so no way we were getting out of there. We decided to wait for a bend until the thing shot its load, so to speak. If it made shit and come, it would have to spit it out eventually, right? Anyway, that's when things started to go bad. I managed to wrestle the thing. Through the sphincter and to the stomach, its tentacles right at me as it started to melt. Then 835 blew its load and I flew out its ass into the ocean. You know the rest of the story, Bill, except one thing. As for the rest, filled in from the reports and the logs for me, will ya? Oh, and be sure to edit it so the motherfuckers in command don't yell at me for being unprofessional in me AARs again. I'm gonna finish off my drink and take a couple of valium and go to bed. ██████████. Thanks. Warning. This SCP reading contains descriptions of sexual content and other not-safer work material. Viewer discretion is advised. Notice from the Foundation records and Information Security Administration. This document requires level 4 clearance and authorization for need to know under Code Trident Victor Blue. If you do not possess the necessary security clearances, please close this document immediately and report to Security Breach to the Records and Information Security Administration. Thank you. Maria Jones, Director, R-A-I-S-A. SCP-835 Object Class Keter Special Containment Procedures SCP-835 is to be monitored and checked daily for new growth. In the event SCP-835 becomes hostile, suppression tactic AA-6 is to be immediately implemented until aggressive action ceases. Containment area must be maintained in open ocean due to the highly aggressive response of SCP-835 to confinement of any length of time. Waste issued by SCP-835 must be immediately collected and contained. Feeding of SCP-835 is to take place twice daily to consist of any form of local aquatic species. Feeding should be supervised at all times, and no unscheduled feedings of SCP-835 that were to take place for any reason. Should SCP-835 enter a rage state, higher level mammals may be issued as a food supply, up to and including Homo sapiens. SCP-835 is shown high levels of docileity when digesting higher level mammalian life and recommendation for the issuing of the form of food have been approved for use during testing phases. SCP-835 may be moved to a new location twice yearly, provided the current location is no longer capable of supporting SCP-835, and the move has been approved by Site Command. Staff are to remain at least 5 yards away from SCP-835. Anyone working near SCP-835 must have safety lines attached to recall winches. Contact with SCP-835 will result in the immediate recall of all staff and implementation of suppression tactic AA-6. Should contact result in full capture of a staff member, SCP-835 is to be monitored constantly until the release of the subject. Description SCP-835 appears to be a large mass of coral-like polyps weighing 8 tons. The individual polyps are larger than any known coral species, growing to more than 1 meter in diameter in some cases. The central mass is roughly oval-shaped, with a very large, 3 meter diameter polyp at each end. SCP-835 is incapable of locomotion, and appears to anchor itself with the large tentacles projected from the SCP-835 polyps. These are also used in feeding, and are coated with a sticky adhesive substance. The tentacles are also quite strong, and have been shown to be capable of damaging plate steel. The coral of SCP-835 is extremely hard, requiring high-powered diamond drills to collect even small samples. SCP-835 also grows at a very accelerated rate, capable of adding 50 pounds of mass each day. SCP-835 is susceptible to many chemicals, which cause SCP-835 to seal up and halt all growth for 24 hours, prompting the development and use of suppression tactic AA-6. Testing is shown that SCP-835 appears to be made from basic human biological components, with the shell being formed from super-dense calcium, the caps that cover the polyps coated with tooth enamel, and the tentacles appearing to be formed from mutated tongue cells. Most human biological systems are present, however many, neurological, lymphatic, circulatory, etc., show extreme mutation and atrophy. The digestive and reproductive systems appear both highly developed and linked, with both feces and semen being collected and ejected from the same chamber. SCP-835 emits a large mass of semi-liquid material several times a day from the large polyps on each end. This appears to be made of semi-digested solids, fecal material, and semen. This mass also has several forms of virus, bacteria, and parasites, many of which have been found only within SCP-835. The bacterium 835-I-5 forms the major concern for containment due to 835-I-5 and its role in the reproductive cycle of SCP-835. Vertebrate animals infected with SCP-835 will undergo the following symptoms. Increased weight gain, 10-20 lbs. a day on average, constant hunger, urge to consume normally unpleasant, unpalatable items, raw meat, organs, grass, wood, hardening, calcification of the skin, formation of polyps on the skin, rapid reduction in intelligence and mobility, increased aggression, urge to enter seawater, atrophy of many major biological systems. End stage infection appears to convert the subject into an additional instance of SCP-835. Just to determine what, if any, intelligence remains have been inconclusive. However, SCP-835 appears to have a limited amount of awareness. 835-I-5 has shown a very high infectivity rate, with 68% of all infected subjects progression to end stage. There is no form of treatment or antibiotic that has been shown to halt or reverse the effects of 835-I-5. This, coupled with the extremely hard shell of SCP-835, form a major obstacle to neutralization. Any force capable of cracking open SCP-835 would also cause the slurry inside to spread and cause additional infection from 835-I-5. 835 After Action Report Uncensored Notice from the Foundation Records and Information Security Administration. This document requires level 4 clearance and authorization for need to know under Code Triton Victor Blue. If you do not possess the necessary security clearances, please close this document immediately and report to Security Breach of the Records and Information Security Administration. Thank you. Maria Jones, Director, RAISA Addendum 835-01, first draft of After Action Report by Mobile Task Force Zeta-9er, Circumstances of Retrieval. On ████ at ████ hours, Mobile Task Force Zeta-9er, Mole Rats, conducted an investigation of SCP-835. At this time, SCP-835 had a mass of only 4 tons and only one large polyp at the north end of the structure, designated Polyp Alpha. Polyp Bravo not yet being in existence. As per standard procedure, four team members were chosen for the initial investigation. In isolation suits, underwater variant were worn by all four team members. Lieutenant ████ took point as team leader, while Sergeant ████ and █████ served as support. Corporal ████, a rookie team member, accompanied a team as an observer. A standard underwater remote vehicle, or URV, was used for initial investigation. SCP-835 did not at first act in a hostile manner towards the team, allowing team members to approach and make contact without incident. URV-01 was sent to investigate the exterior of the object, while team members C, L, and M proceeded towards what they believed to be the entrance of the site. Corporal ████ was ordered to remain outside and to monitor URV-01 in order to ensure that the device's tether did not become tangled on the exterior protrusions. The first sign of trouble occurred when Corporal ████, while attempting to clear a jam in URV-01's sampling claw, reported in with the words, �O God, help me, help me!� He then reported that some horrible tentacle thing had wrapped around an arm and was dragging him in towards a fucking mouth and vocalized several distress calls. Jesus Christ, I can't do this. Fucking god damn it, it was just a kid. It was his first fucking mission. I should have kept my eye on him. Footnote ████, at this point, Lieutenant ████ logged off their personal computer for ten minutes. Internal sensors indicated the mini-fridge in the quarters was opened, and a fifth of Jameson Whiskey removed. Christ. Alright, here goes. Guess I'll just let Sarge edit this for me, again. So the thing grabbed the kid. It had me full to rights. The entrance wasn't an entrance, it was just some cave. The real entrance was the big polyp thing on the north end. It grabbed the kid and started dragging him towards the mouth. Topside started to drag him up, but all they got was a snapped cable, and the kid? He got pulled inside and eaten. God, I still remember him screaming. He was screaming at us. He was crying. Oh god, Lieutenant, it's eating me. Oh god, I don't want to die. I'm shouting at him to calm down. We're gonna get him out of there, and then Topside tells us to abort, and they start the winches. I'm screaming at them to wait. I had his hand. I had him. I had the caribiter on, and we were hooked together. The Topside starts winching his up, and we're not getting anywhere. I'm grabbing on, I'm telling him I'm not gonna let go, and then the winch starts to seize up, and I feel this jerk on the tether and it goes slack, and then we're both sliding into that damn thing. Footnote 2. Post-incident analysis indicates that this was the point where the support vehicle's crane suffered a critical structural failure. It was like, Jesus, I need another drink. Fuck. It was like, the only way I can think of it, was like, you know, that thing that the doctors do when they stick us to the tube of someone's ass, and look at the inside of their intestines? I saw that on TV once. It was like that, except I was going down to throw to some horrible underwater hell monster, not up some poor bastard's rear. There were these muscular contractions, I guess, and they were slowly sliding us down the length of the tube. If we weren't wearing a hard suit, we'd have been crushed, but as it was, we were held so tight we could barely move, even with power assist. I managed to get my head up enough to see the kid's face. His faceplate was covered in vomit, poor bastard apute in his suit. Footnote 3. In early missions, 25% of all Zeta-9er casualties were caused by aspiration of vomit caused by backflow against the suit's faceplate. Second-generation isolation suits were redesigned with catchpockets, piezoelectric face shield wipers, and self-clearing air intakes to prevent further incidents. I started yelling for him, trying to get him to say something. He managed to tell me he was alright. He was sobbing like a baby. I started doing some calculations, based on my dead reckoning tracker initial sonar scans. We were moving about a meter every minute. That meant 72 hours until we came out the other side, assuming we did. We had the air, our rebreaters could keep going for days, what we didn't have was the power to keep the suits warm for that long. If the heat went out, hypothermia would kill us. I don't know, look it up, in any case we'd be dead. We needed to conserve power. I told the kid to turn off his helmet lights, lock his joints and turn down his heater to minimum. He started crying, he didn't want to do it. I didn't blame him, but I told him we had no choice. We finally agreed to shut down everything but our internal helmet lights, at least. It seemed to calm him down and honestly, that extra 0.1% power wouldn't make a difference. I think that was the worst part. We spent at least a day like that, locked in our suits, couldn't move our arms and legs, no sound but the things gurgling and your own breathing and the sound of your rebreather. The puke on the kid's faceplate started to dry up and flake off about an hour or so in, so I could see his face. He looked tired and scared. I think, check the log, Sarge. I think it was about 13 hours in when the kid started talking again. Step note 4 Mission Time, 1613 from start, 1217 since capture. Kid started babbling, apologized for stealing my shorts, said you guys made him sneak into my quarters and take it from me as a dare. Why the hell did you guys make him do that? I mean, I don't mind if you haze the new guys, Bill, but did you always have to do it in a way that reminded him I'm a chick? It was hard enough trying to get them to listen to me as it was. Anyway, Bill, it's all there in the log. You know what I told him. They were lies, of course. Jokes. He laughed, too. Joked back. I hope he was joking. I don't know what I would have done if we survived. Maybe I would have gone ahead and did it. I don't know. It's all fucked up. Anyway, after that he calmed down a lot. Even managed to crack a couple of jokes, and then I told him to take a nap. He slept a bit, thank God. About 24 hours in, we reached. I guess they're calling it the stomach now. First warning sign was a gurgling kind of noise, louder with a crunching noise over it. I told the kid to bring his suit up to full power and get ready. A little while after, we fell out into the big chamber, big as in big enough for the two of us to fit in uncomfortably, which was huge compared to the tight squeeze of the tube. Kid's suit started hissing, and the outer shell started to turn all pitted and stuff, and I know as my gloves were starting to degrade, too, so I yelled at him to move, and we started heading towards this sphincter, I guess. I remember. God, why can't I remember this? The insides of the stomach were lined with teeth and faces, human faces, and they were all wailing at us and screaming. They were begging us to kill them. I almost lost it there. I started opening up with my gun, started shooting them in the heads, and if I'd stayed, my suit would have melted and I'd be dead, but the kid grabbed me and shoved me head first through the sphincter and we fell into the other place. It was even worse in the stomach. That one was lined with faces and filled with acid. This place was, well, you know it was full of. I'm not squeamish, Bill. You can't be if you're a mole rat, but this place squeaked me out so bad I almost passed out. The kid helped me back up to my feet, though, told me we were almost out. Come on, Lieutenant, we're almost out of here. Let's go, he said. We moved over to the other sphincter, but the thing was, well, it was puckered up tighter than my drill sergeant's asshole back in basic, so no way we're getting out of there. We decided to wait for a bit until the thing shot its load, so to speak. If it made shit and cum, it would have to spit it out eventually, right? Anyway, that's when things started to go bad. The kid started complaining about this awful smell. I tried to stay calm, told him it was probably his suit's waste recyclers, told him to let me take a look at it. Yeah, there was a hole in the back of his leg, probably from the acid. I put a patch on it, and told him to not worry about it. And that's when I noticed that there were these red things growing all over his face. He started screaming when the first of them burst in splattered blood all over the inside of his faceplate. He begged me to die. I put my gun to his faceplate and pulled the trigger. Click. I burned all my ammo trying to shoot those damn faces. The tentacles burst out of his face a moment after. It grabbed me, and it started licking me, Bill. The thing was running its tongues all over my face and body, over the suit. It grabbed me and pushed me down and tried to hunt in my suit like a dog, but it couldn't get through. I managed to wrestle a thing that had once been the kid back through the sphincter into the stomach. Its tentacles ride at me as it started to melt. He smiled, told me he loved me before he died. I screamed. Then 835 blew its load and I flew out its ass into the ocean. You know the rest of the story, Bill, except one thing. When I got back to the ship, there was a breach in my suit. I haven't told anyone yet, Bill. No one noticed. Not even me. A little crack on the wrist of my left club. And I guess someone missed a spot on decontamination, and well, I figured I was okay, right? It just hit the skin, nothing internal, and I didn't start getting symptoms right away. But I've read the reports about the latency times, and I'm gonna start coming down. Now it's about the tail end of the incubation period, so I locked myself in and waited. I just looked in the mirror and noticed that my face is starting to grow some red blotches, so yeah, I guess I'm fucked. As for the rest, filled in from the reports and the logs for me, will ya, I will be sure to edit it so the motherfuckers in command don't yell at me for being unprofessional and me AARs again. I'm gonna finish off my drink, and take a couple of valium and go to bed. Tell the cleaner teams not to enter my quarters. Abandon the entire ship and scuttle it on top of the original site. It should be easier to contain two of us than just one. Besides, I think the kid would like it that way. Now we can be together, just like he wants. Thanks.