 Item number SCP-279. Object Class. Euclid. Special Containment Procedures. There is no known way of inhibiting SCP-279's movements. As SCP-279 has not yet been sighted outside of its host town, D, the city has been placed under a level of lockdown. No media regarding SCP-279 are permitted to leave the town. If at all possible, the civilians are to be kept unaware of the anomalous properties of SCP-279, as well as the fact that their city is being monitored. A minimum of two agents are to follow SCP-279's movements as closely as they are able. Description. SCP-279 appears to be a man in his early 40s, of unremarkable appearance and dress. SCP-279 does not respond to any form of external stimuli, and has not been observed to deviate from a standard neutral expression. SCP-279 has been reported to spontaneously disappear and reappear throughout D, presenting unusual difficulties to agents required to monitor it. SCP-279 seemingly spends the majority of its time time traveling through the town of D. Attempts to eliminate SCP-279 have failed. SCP-279 continues whatever it is in the process of doing regardless of any injury it has sustained. Small portions of SCP-279 attempt to continue locomotion even when separated from the whole. In light of this, attempts to dispatch SCP-279 have been indefinitely postponed. All samples taken confirm that SCP-279 is human. At approximately 3 am, SCP-279 vanishes for two hours, and returns in its original state at another location in D. Containment or restraint is impossible, as SCP-279 possesses an inordinate amount of strength when physically restrained, and has utilized its ability to spontaneously reappear in a different location when indirectly restrained. Although SCP-279 has no known motive, it does not have a known history of violent behavior. SCP-279 has been observed standing in unusual areas for up to several days at a time, looking into windows of occupied rooms, walking in a circle roughly two meters in diameter for several hours, data expunged in houses, entering shops and f***ing shop manager-informed local authorities after three minutes, walking along roads, etc. Care must be taken to avoid direct skin contact with SCP-279. When such contact is made, the person in question will vanish, along with SCP-279, at the usual time of disappearance. Only one individual has been recovered after direct contact with SCP-279. Said individual appeared to be in a state of near-catatonic shock upon recovery in a basement. After being relocated to site, the subject showed signs of being legally blind. Despite examinations, proving vision was only slightly farsighted. Subject appeared to be reasonably lucid, despite showing signs of mental data expunged. SCP-279 reported saying, get away from me repeatedly while data expunged. However, does not satisfactorily explain the injuries the subject incurred while confined to a straight jacket in a padded room. Addendum 279A Agents monitoring SCP-279 have brought to our attention a problematic development. While in the past, information leaks were secured easily due to the fact that SCP-279 rarely appeared near large crowds. It has recently been frequenting densely populated areas. More conspicuously odd actions have also been noted, although this may be due to the fact that more people are reporting unusual events surrounding SCP-279. Despite our best efforts, SCP-279 has since become something of a landmark of the town due to its open, unusual behavior. Liberal amounts of amnestics were administered when citizens noticed connections between missing individuals and SCP-279. Violence directed towards SCP-279 attracted large amounts of attention and resulted in an immense security breach before agents were able to arrive. Currently, efforts are being made to maintain security without upsetting the population of D. However, if f***ing fails, the city is to be put under a level f***ing lockdown. Attempts to maintain any pretense that D is not being closely monitored will be discontinued. As it is a relatively small town, the process of data expunged ought to go smoothly. Dr. W... Level 5 security clearance required. Recently, a researcher noticed an odd distortion in a picture of SCP-279. After considerable concentration, the doctor was able to see a similar distortion in all files depicting SCP-279. Said doctor then discovered an effective method of an extremely elaborate and convoluted process, and after considerable time, he was able to achieve the desired effect. An extremely subtle memetic hazard had affected SCP-279 and nearly all examinations it was involved in. Since then, SCP-279 has been confirmed to be decidedly not human. DNA retesting is impossible due to the nature of SCP-279. Testing confirmed that agents claimed to be grasping SCP-279's arm when, as viewed with the aid of said doctor's methods, the agent's arm appeared to be data expunged, up to the elbow in... Researchers were reminded that despite the admittedly unsavory aspects of allowing it to interact with civilians, data expunged, use of foundation resources, coupled with the fact that very little is known of SCP-279's motives, requests to evacuate D have been denied. Researchers are reminded to maintain a professional calm. As per mutual agreement, the containment procedures regarding SCP-279 have been updated. Agents tasked with monitoring SCP-279 have not been informed of its nature, as the information was deemed to be too distressing. Item number, SCP-230, Object Class, Euclid, Special Containment Procedures. SCP-230 is kept in a secure room in Scythe... The room must have a controlled ventilation system, so that air exiting the room can be properly filtered before it re-enters the regular ventilation system of the complex. SCP-230 is to be given anything he requests that does not violate standard procedures for SCP containment. The door is set to automatically lock every time it closes, and can only be open from outside the room. Personnel entering SCP-230's room must wear a full hazmat suit with its own oxygen supply. Personnel exposed to the air in SCP-230's cell, or who come in physical contact with SCP-230, or any of SCP-230's bodily fluids, must be contained, and held for observation for no less than one month. Personnel still exhibiting symptoms from SCP-230 after one month are to be terminated. If personnel are cleared by on-site staff after a month, they are then to be transferred in forbidden contact with SCP-230. Due to recent events, subjects that have been exposed and cleared by staff are required to undergo regular psychological exams. If upon exam the personnel exhibits any of the traits shown in document 230-4436B, the personnel is to be terminated. Note, subject has made several escape attempts utilizing personnel exposed to SCP-230. This represents a low threat due to the fact that exposed personnel are usually impaired. However, personnel will become violent in order to stay in SCP-230's presence. Description SCP-230 is a male Caucasian with a lean build and gaunt appearance. SCP-230 is 185 cm, or 6'1", tall, 68.04 kg, or 150 lbs, and appears to be in his early 30s. He wears bright clothing, and prefers the colors pink and yellow. SCP-230 is a very cheerful individual who appears to be incapable of negative emotions. SCP-230 secretes a chemical similar in composition to heroin from his pores. The chemical has been named Compound Whip. Once secreted from his pores, it evaporates immediately and contaminates the air around SCP-230. Compound Whip seems to be effective in as little as 30 parts per million in gaseous form. When inhaled, Compound Whip causes extreme euphoria in subjects. Analysis on Class D personnel under the effects of SCP-230 indicated they had dopamine levels greater than five times of what is expected during sexual climax. Subjects express impairments similar to the effects of heroin. Subjects become willing to comply with any request SCP-230 makes, provided it does not involve leaving SCP-230's presence. Compound Whip is present in all of SCP-230's bodily fluids. Exposure is possible even by contact with SCP-230's skin. Exposure to the compound will result in immediate addiction. Withdrawal symptoms are extreme and have a 30% mortality rate. Symptoms include loss of appetite, tremors, panic, vomiting, diarrhea, irritability, dementia, insanity, blindness, and hemorrhaging. Those symptoms vary from subject to subject. Symptoms typically last for around two weeks before subsiding. The symptoms appear to be determined by how much of Compound Whip the subject is exposed to. Subjects that ingest any of SCP-230's bodily fluid, i.e. saliva, blood, etc., have a mortality rate from withdrawal of 100%. SCP-230 was found in an apartment with 20 people acting as his servants. SCP-230 seemed to be actively attempting to limit the number of people he exposed. Several bodies of exposed persons were found on the premises. When questioned about them, SCP-230 replied, things were getting crowded, so I had to ask a few of them to stop breathing. SCP-230 appears to be under the effects of Compound Whip, but doesn't seem to be impaired by it in any way. Attempts to alter SCP-230's mood have proven ineffective. Use of various drugs known to cause depression only resulted in SCP-230 producing more of Compound Whip, and thus were ineffective. SCP-230 is a very friendly individual, and will candidly engage in conversation with any personnel. SCP-230 is unaware of how or when he began secreting Compound Whip. When questioned about his past, SCP-230 replied that he has been secreting Compound Whip as long as he can remember. SCP-230 prefers to talk about things he considers good, or gay. SCP-230 has some psychological attachment to the word gay. When asked to describe himself, SCP-230 used the word gay six times, gaiety four times, and the word gayest once, when SCP-230 referred to himself as, quote, the gayest man alive. Note by Dr. R- SCP-230's preoccupation with the word gay has nothing to do with sexual orientation. SCP-230 doesn't appear to have a sexual orientation, due to a lack of interest in sex entirely. This makes sense, seeing as SCP-230 experiences the same amount of pleasure doing any given activity, making sex unnecessary. Addendum 231 A Class II personnel researcher was accidentally exposed to Compound Whip during research. Subject was detained and sent to treatment for the duration of withdrawal symptoms. After one month, subject was released after being cleared by medical staff. Two months later, subject was found trying to break into SCP-230's containment area. Subject reacted violently and injured several personnel before she was detained. Subject was terminated after examination, and precautions have been made to prevent further occurrence. Item Number SCP-220 Object Class Safe Special Containment Procedures SCP-220 was housed in an empty condominium on property recently acquired by Research Sector 9. The subject believes the building to be occupied by other residents, and should be allowed to persist in this belief. A false bus stop has been installed near the building's entrance. This measure has proven sufficient in deterring SCP-220 from wandering outside the containment perimeter. SCP-220 exhibits trepidation when venturing beyond the building's lobby, most likely due to mobility challenges. The subject will sometimes remain seated at the bus stop for upwards of one hour, before returning indoors. SCP-220's room has been provided with a telephone connected to an automated recording service, ostensibly a courtesy of the residents. Dietary, medical, and recreational needs are to be ascertained from these recordings, and several live video feeds. New requests should be submitted to Dr. Hart for approval or denial. In light of incident 220P, only D-Class subjects are approved for in-person contact with SCP-220, and should be immediately quarantined after testing, in accordance with Sector 9's Type II Contagion Procedure. Description SCP-220 is a multi-racial English-speaking human male, aged 76 years as of 515-12. SCP-220 presents behaviors symptomatic of Disassociative Identity Disorder, alternately referring to himself and behaving as one of two distinct identities. It is uncertain whether SCP-220 is affected by a psychological disorder, or is deliberately playing the role of two persons. In SCP-220's public and private behavior, the identity of Ormond Garibaldi alternates with that of Ali G, a name which corresponds with the subject's birth certificate. Any individual who interacts with SCP-220 in person will be fully convinced that these identities are two separate persons. Two variations of this phenomenon have been observed. SCP-220 presents as Ali, or Ormond, and refers to the other persona as a friend or relative. In this case, even when they have been previously informed of SCP-220's condition, test subjects unhesitatingly accept SCP-220's statements as fact. SCP-220 presents as Ali, or Ormond, and switches identities during the course of the conversation. The differences between these two personas are not drastic, but recordings demonstrate that the switch is always accompanied by a marked change in posture, tone of voice and rhythm of speech, and personality. Nevertheless, SCP-220's conversation partner will not perceive a change, but react as if one individual has left the room, and a second entered in their place. In rare cases, test subjects will behave as if they are conversing with both Ali and Ormond at the same time. Despite the anomalous nature of these conversations, test subjects never exhibit fear or distress during or when asked to recall time spent with SCP-220. The effects of SCP-220 are irreversible, regardless of whether an individual is informed of SCP-220's nature before and or after the in-person test. Within four to six hours of contact with SCP-220, affected individuals will begin to display signs of slight disorientation, forgetting their purpose in entering a room, or the subject of a conversation. This disorientation gives way to a permanent state of identity confusion. Affected individuals will begin to perceive every person they come into contact with as two distinct individuals. The afflicted will address a single person, either as if they are speaking to two people at once, or alternating between two distinct conversations. The majority of affected subjects perceive one of these illusory identities as a close friend or relative, regardless of appearances or whether their conversational partner is a stranger or acquaintance. Incident 220-P Excerpt from the Notes of Dr. Hart The secondary effects of contact with SCP-220 were discovered accidentally during psychiatric evaluation of D7905 by Dr. Palermo. 24 hours had elapsed since D7905's exposure to SCP-220. The affected individual's confusion and disorientation had increased, to the point of several times referring to Dr. Palermo as his father. 30 minutes into the interview, recordings indicate that Dr. Palermo also began to display signs of confusion and disorientation, alternately addressing the interviewee as D7905 and his son. The effects of SCP-220 were determined to be highly contagious, spread via in-person contact, including eye contact with no accompanying verbalizations. Five individuals were subsequently quarantined. D-class subjects were terminated. Dr. Palermo's condition has deteriorated from identity confusion to a state resembling advanced Alzheimer's disease. The contagiousness of these symptoms has been proven to increase with their severity. Individuals who observe SCP-220 via audio or audio-visual recordings demonstrate no anomalous effects, provided that these recordings do not take the form of a two-way conversation with SCP-220. Addendum 1 On 12612, SCP-220 sustained serious bruising after a fall. D9120, under pretense of being one of the building's residents, was instructed to assess the subject's injuries. SCP-220's emotional distress was observed to exacerbate its anomalous effect on D9120, who became rapidly disoriented, forgetting her objective. D9002 was instructed to retrieve D9120 from the containment site and was indisposed by these symptoms at a notably slower rate. D9120 and D9002 were subsequently quarantined and remotely euthanized. Addendum 2 The following is the complete list of requests made by SCP-220 via phone. Granted requests and meals are supplied while SCP-220 is occupied with a daily ritual of walking five times around the building's lobby. Denied requests are communicated by a note of apology from the condominium's manager, citing the item's unavailability. Requests made by SCP-220 while identifying as Ormond. Arthur Conan Doyle's The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Granted A pair of silk house slippers. Granted A French coffee press. Grinder And coffee beans. Denied Safety concerns An electric kettle. Granted A request that management post his open invitation to a chess tournament for other guests to see. Denied Denial phrased as Best Post Pwned Until The Busy Season Requests made by SCP-220 while identifying as Ollie A picture of his wife. Granted Although records indicate Ollie G was never married, assistant researcher Evans, with the permission of Dr. Hart, has supplied a photograph of her deceased grandmother. Tylenol PM. Granted Dosage limited to two tablets. An address book. Granted SCP-220 has been observed to write in this book frequently. A request for a call to be put through to his granddaughter. Denied SCP-220 has no record of family. Denial phrased as Number Unavailable A bicycle. Denied A guide to birdwatching in Florida. Granted A pair of binoculars. Granted A chess set. Granted SCP-220 has been recorded spending upwards of four hours engaged with the chess board, crossing back and forth to play each side. Item Number SCP-214 Object Class Euclid Special Containment Procedures SCP-214 is to be contained in a four by four meter quarantine cell, suitable for long-term human habitation within Bio Research Area 12. It is to be considered an etiological agent of a level 4 biohazard. Level 4 biohazard containment requires clean rooms, pre- and post-entry decontamination showers, and a vacuum anti-chamber. All air and water sources to SCP-214's containment area are to be isolated from the rest of the area. All employees entering SCP-214's containment area must wear hazmat suits with self-contained oxygen supply and supplemental cut resistant liner. The cell shall be under continuous observation using remote video surveillance. SCP-214 is to be considered a danger to itself and others, and shall not be allowed to possess potentially dangerous utensils. Due to SCP-214's distinct perception of pain, guards shall not cause physical injury to it, except under the direction of level 2 staff. Beyond the above procedures, all personnel intending to interact with SCP-214 are to undergo psychological evaluation. Any employees with prior history of depression are not permitted to interact with it. Regular sessions of psychological observation are to occur post- research on all participants. Any personnel exhibiting two or more of the following symptoms during observation are to be quarantined immediately in identical containment to SCP-214. Self-harming behaviors Blunted effect Glossolalia Logoria Compulsive lying Silvery discharge from mucous membranes or wounds Obsessive compulsive behaviors, particularly in writing or speech Research staff is heavily encouraged to read log 214 and interview 214 before conducting experiments as a precautionary measure. Description SCP-214 is male, age 1, formerly an agent at the foundation. Physical and mental changes were noted after investigation of an incident at Public Library, Massachusetts. Containment of SCP-214 is detailed and written. A physical examination of SCP-214 shows the replacement of most bodily fluids, including but not limited to blood, vitreous humor, seminal fluid, and cerebrospinal fluid, with a mercury-like substance. Chemical analysis shows that the substance is a suspension of complex organometallic compounds in a protein, a lipid-enriched serum. But so far, nothing more can be ascertained of its origins or purpose. Most bodily functions were observed to no longer be active in SCP-214, though the related organs still exist in a preserved state within the body cavity. This includes the brain, which no longer shows activity on electroencephalography. It shows notable selective regenerative properties, some injuries vanishing within moments of infliction, while others remain unhealed, even after a period of time in which a normal human would have recovered. SCP-214 does not experience pain normally, instead reacting to it as pleasure, with no regard to physical damage to its body. Objects have been noted to disappear in the vicinity of SCP-214. There is currently no known method of recovering lost items. Addendum 214A. Excerpts of Agent Dairy relating to becoming SCP-214 have been transcribed to Log 214. Addendum 214B. Logs of interviews with SCP-214 have been transcribed to Interview 214. Addendum 214C. Researcher has been detained after showing symptoms identical in nature to SCP-214, the conclusion of L214. Containment procedures have been updated to reflect the contagious nature of SCP-214. Log 214. Personal log of Agent Date. Undisclosed. I got my latest assignment. Apparently, there's reports of cult activity centered around a public library and- Shipping out tomorrow to investigate, along with the rest of Lambda 7. There's major concern about it being a part of Church of the Broken God, given that the location contains a large museum of machinery. Hate dealing with them. The crazy machine god thing gives me more creeps than the rest of the sh** here. Most of them only kill your body. Date. Undisclosed. Initial recon's back on the building. Nothing anomalous so far, with 90% of the building mapped. Only thing left is the periodical's wing. That seems to be closed for renovations. Seems like people go in there quite a bit after dark, but the door's always locked, and the architect that designed this place seems to have a personal vendetta against windows. Nothing wrong with spikes though. This place has spikes on every surface they could think of. Team's going to shadow one of them in tomorrow and see what's going on inside. Note. Between this log and the next, the entirety of Lambda 7 vanished without a trace, along with the reported cultists. Date. Undisclosed. Pages upon pages flittered through my mind, breeze-borne motion revealing in the saturation of information, coalesced and indexed to perfection, safely stored. The library approves of the new acquisitions to its collection, filling her walls evermore with the distilled essence of being, for all to borrow, but never keep. Subsuming the identity, enrobing oneself in another for a time for the goals for the plans and partly-realized dreams. Emulating the flesh and its frailties, its ickers and impulses as a marionette on string dancing its jerky frivolity. Date. Undisclosed. Awake again. Not sure how long I've slapped on the way back to- Red previous log. I think I might have been sleep deprived. It doesn't make any sense. Cult's gone. Team's gone. Writing after-action report. Attempted to erase previous log, but can't see the button to do that. Compromised. The word keeps echoing in my head. I think I've been compromised. Cut myself shaving this morning and bled quicksilver into the sink. The sensation of the blade cutting into my skin felt like a lover's caress. It's my duty to self-terminate. I've been compromised. Once the report's done, I'll do that. Still have my sidearm. 12.04 pm. Tension. Buildup. Trumbling finger. Burnt cord I taste. The flash. The burst. The romance of lead intangling bone and fat, followed by orgiastic release. Date. Undisclosed. Awake again. Bullet didn't do anything. No recollection since I pulled the trigger. I was in the bathroom. Now I'm in bed. There's hotel and medical staff uniforms laying around, but no people. No remains. No signs of a struggle and not a drop of blood. Tried to call my superiors to warn them that I'm coming, but my fingers keep missing the numbers. All I can do is write in here. Something makes me think that they want this to be found. Just too late. Still bleeding out the back of my head. Something feels right about that, and the warm sensation running down is delightful. And log. Interview 214. Interviewed. SCP-214. Interviewer. Researcher. Forward. Initial interview to ascertain the origin of SCP-214. Begin log. Researcher. I'd like you to tell me again about what happened at the library. SCP-214. Library. Home, sweet home. Have you been to the periodical section? Such a lovely place. Glittering with the dewy webs of knowledge strewn across the indexes. Researcher. Home. Do you mean like a metaphysical home? Or did you actually plan to live there? We show your address of record as SCP-214. I've always been there. I'm still there. Home is where the library is after all. And this is my home now, isn't it? So this is the library now. It'll be a fine one too once I get everything organized. Researcher. What do you remember of before the library? Do you remember your name? Do you remember why you were sent to the library? SCP-214. Oh, my name is SCP-214, isn't it? Filed and stored away with so many other texts. I greatly admire your work. You hold so many beautiful things here. Researcher. That's your designation, yes. Do you remember what it was? SCP-214. Designation. A distinguishing name. Yes, I know it. Do you remember what yours is? Researcher. Of course. But I'm not the one answering the questions here. Do you remember what happened at the library between when you arrived and you were found? SCP-214. Are you sure? Because you told me it was a leash show before. Sometimes, people lose themselves, and I wouldn't want that to happen to you. It's for your own good that you know yourself. What happened? What always happens in a library? Knowledge was exchanged. Researcher. Alisha. What? No. You're attempting to change the subject. What knowledges were exchanged in the library? With whom? Reports suggested people inside, engaging in some kind of synchronized ritual. But when we showed up, you were the only one there. What happened to the rest of the people, 214? SCP-214. I already told you. Knowledge was exchanged. Everything is information, to be stored and sorted. Compressed, if need be. Researcher. Stored where? There were no traces of any other individuals inside that building when the recovery team arrived, but you were covered in the unknown sample. SCP-214. Oh, Alisha. You do have such a limited view of things here. You ask the wrong questions. You already know where. They're in the library. They never left. Researcher. My name isn't. We did a thorough search of the library. You were the only one inside. We didn't even pick up DNA traces. Someone or something had swept it clean. Tell me what happened in the library. What happened to those 17 people to 214? SCP-214. You keep confusing the map for the territory, Alisha. It is a bad habit. They've been indexed in the library. Stored, numbered, and sorted. Researcher. You... You don't mean the building, do you? When you talk about the library. SCP-214. You do good work here. We work at complementary purposes. To secure, protect, and contain. To organize, quantify, and enlighten. You are so bright, Alisha. Just a few more steps now. Researcher. Can you... Can you show me the library? SCP-214. Of course I can. End log. Closing statement. Said researcher was found after the interview inside SCP-214's enclosure, leaking silvery fluid from... Item number. SCP-208. Object class. Safe. Special containment procedures. Due to his docile manner, minimum containment procedures are to be applied to SCP-208. SCP-208 is to be housed in a 10 meter by 10 meter room, decorated in traditional Egyptian style, furnished with a single couch, and a stereo system, stocked with music of North African origin of any era. Surveillance is to be maintained during all movement outside of containment. SCP-208 is approved to operate at Site-17's medical wing. Description. SCP-208 appears to be a short stout man of Egyptian heritage, possessing a great deal of hair over much of his body. Along his brow is a mane similar to a lion's in shape and color, which grows down to a significant beard. SCP-208 typically wears an Egyptian tunic, similar to that of typical old kingdom military, although occasionally this is replaced by modern military fatigues. SCP-208 is capable of inducing rapid cellular regeneration and reconfiguration within organic life forms, which amounts to the ability to quickly and effectively heal most physical ailments. This is performed by a unique form of electromagnetic radiation released from SCP-208's body, which acts on a wavelength that oscillates with 4 degrees of freedom, rather than 3. The electromagnetic radiation displays unusual pulse phenomena. Furthermore, the energy of the radiation decays over distance in a fashion incompatible with the inverse squared model. This radiation is emitted from SCP-208 naturally in small doses, and can be released in greater amounts when focused. Personnel have noted that being near SCP-208 provokes a feeling of wellness and ease, making him quite popular with the security staff. This radiation also possesses the ability of warding off ill intent, to the point of acting as a physical barrier to naturally malicious beings. What causes this is unknown, but MRI scanning of Class D personnel taken from Death Row in the presence of SCP-208 detected an unidentifiable pattern of neurons firing. This activity coincided with the feeling of extreme unease on behalf of the subject, as he tried to flee the secure containment chamber. It is speculated that the neural activity activates the acute stress response in human subjects, stimulating the fight or instinct. What causes it to affect non-human subjects is still unknown. Despite his appearance, SCP-208 is jovial and friendly to staff, and enjoys the company of others. Due to his good behavior and willingness to cooperate, SCP-208 has been permitted access to most common areas within Site-17. Known to most staff as BESS, SCP-208 has been adopted as an assistant in the medical wing of Site-17, a position he seems to have fit into naturally. SCP-208 is also fond of children, and has been noted to be very protective of what he considers the innocent. The only thing to inspire aggressive behavior from SCP-208 has been snakes, for which he has expressed a deep hatred. SCP-208 was originally discovered in f***ing Egypt, during a search for SCP-208 along the Nile River. While SCP agents began digging into sediment in the Nile Delta, Dr. W*** spotted a foot sticking out of the riverbed. Further excavation revealed that it was connected to a great block of granite. Recovered and brought to Sector W***, SCP-208 was exhumed from the stone after surprising a researcher, who discovered that he was still alive. After examination had been concluded, SCP-208 was moved to Site-17 as a safe-class SCP. Addendum 208-A, comparison testing of SCP-500 showed that it still serves as a much more effective cure. SCP-208 commented that he still tells better jokes. You don't miss any of our upcoming videos.