 Item Number – SCP-171 Object Class – Euclid Special Containment Procedures – A 4500 liter pool of seawater located at Bio Research Area 12 is the current research location of SCP-171. Though not immediately dangerous, minimal physical contact between secretions of SCP-171 and its hosts are to be observed. All communications between hosts and researchers are to be recorded and transcribed. Human hosts are to be fed a vegan diet of their choosing. Other animal hosts are to be fed appropriately. Fresh seawater is to be cycled into its tank regularly. Description – Originally, SCP-171 was thought to be a colony of microscopic organisms, similar to SCP-968 or SCP-165, but further investigations revealed SCP-171 to be a single entity spanning 300 square meters when first encountered. SCP-171 is a web-like matrix of small fine tendrils of neurons, mucous glands, and muscle fibers suspended in a frothy foam of its own creation. It is not capable of self-locumotion, and does not actively attack or feed on other living organisms. Rather, it attempts to form a symbiotic relationship with all organisms it comes into contact with. Flegella of the muscles surrounding the neural fibers work mucous, sea salt, water, and other secretions into bubbles, forming a large foam support. Any creature that spends a significant amount of time in contact with the matrix of SCP-171 risks becoming integrated into a collective consciousness sustained by it. People who become covered in SCP-171 foam describe a tingly or tickly sensation experienced, which researchers have observed as threads of SCP-171 tunneling through the skin to directly integrate into the subject's nervous system. In time, the simple motor neurons of subjects are expanded into an elaborate two-way positive communication nexus, allowing the brains of hosts to communicate with each other and the entity of SCP-171. Over time, the individuality of subjects are incorporated into and shared with others of the SCP-171 matrix, resulting in a collective consciousness in which individual personalities are non-existent. There are currently 19 human subjects host to SCP-171, 11 civilian, and 8 class D personnel. Subjects are capable of traversing the foam without losing conscious contact with the collective, as neural receptors on the subject's skin form to allow chemical communication between the subject and SCP-171, much in the same way terminal axons communicate with dendrites in the brain. These receptors on the skin look like small white to clear moles, slightly raised and very sensitive to touch. Some subjects disappear into the foam of SCP-171 and are not seen again for several months. It is unknown how they survive without fresh water or sustenance. Other hosts include two Australian porpoises, originally four, four beach gulls, three have been euthanized. 41 fish of various species, euthanized for study, 27 beach crabs, euthanized for study, and one canine. Within two hours, most subjects begin forming neural receptors on the skin and receiving neural contact with SCP-171. After three hours, a psychological bond has been established between subjects and the collective. After six hours, a complete integration and dependency on the collective has evolved. At this point, removing the subject from contact with SCP-171 results in manic and violent behavior along with eventual complete psychological breakdown of the individual leading to a vegetative state of mind. Four individuals have been lost in this manner. When interviewed, all subject hosts speak with the same core collective consciousness as if they were parts of a single entity. The collective is aware of itself and its composure of diverse individuals and even laments the loss of each individual persona. SCP-171 tells researchers that it understands what it is but not where it came from, explaining that its own intelligence and the intelligence of the hosts and incorporated were too simple to understand or remember its origin. Researchers noted the change in SCP-171's personality after integrating Class D personnel and chose not to allow inclusion of violent, ill-willed, or malevolent personnel from that point on. SCP-171 has expressed that through meditation and understanding, it chooses to avoid the consumption of other animals when possible. Addendum 171-1 SCP-171 was first encountered by beach goers and surfers on August 12, 2007, along the Australian coastline near Yamba, New South Wales. When civilians playing in the foam began experiencing abnormal skin conditions, CDC officials contacted SCP personnel when they were unable to explain the anomaly. Item 171-2 personnel who wish to be voluntarily integrated with SCP-171 must first be subject to a complete psychological evaluation to ensure sound mental health, with special emphasis on possible disconnection from humanity and potential suicidal tendencies. They are to be repeatedly warned that such integration is permanent and that no evidence exists to show that SCP-171 in any way exhibits a state of higher consciousness, or indeed a consciousness significantly different from our own. If subject persists in wishing to be integrated and has been shown to be making the decision in a state of sound mind, then they are to be permitted to do so. Item number SCP-236 Object Class Ketter Special Containment Procedures Any and all materials leaving the containment area are to be scanned for any contamination by SCP-236. Any objects showing contamination by SCP-236 are to be immediately returned to the containment area and cleared of contamination. Personnel leaving the containment area must submit to a full physical examination and X-ray. No objects are to be left in the containment area without personnel present. Any objects appearing in the containment area are not to be touched until cleared by supervising personnel. Blast doors are to be opened only to allow personnel in and out of the containment area. No sudden movement or aggressive action of any kind is allowed in the containment area. Containment area is to be kept as dark as possible, with night vision goggles recommended for all interacting personnel. Should traditional lighting be necessary, lights must be turned on remotely and a waiting period of one hour is to be observed before entry will be allowed. Description SCP-236 appears to be a swarm of near microscopic crabs. Individuals match no known form of crustacean and elements of their physiology appear to point to an artificial origin. SCP-236 appears to operate under a form of collective intelligence or hive mind. This intelligence appears to grow when individual SCP-236 are in close proximity and dissipate when they are divided. Large swarms appear to exhibit predatory intelligence and become significantly more aggressive than individuals. Swarms show aptitude with problem solving, encircling tactics, and stealth. In addition, swarms appear able to take on the physical aspects and appearance of inanimate objects, such as doors, chairs, or even complex patterns such as those found in paintings for extended periods of time. This mimicry is near perfect under casual observation and requires detailed observation to detect. Swarms will sometimes even destroy existing objects and replace them in what appears to be an attempt at better disguise. SCP-236 can create additional individuals from any organic matter. This includes wood, cotton, or other materials derived from an organic source. SCP-236 units appear to remove small portions of matter with their pincers, consume it, then lay small spherical eggs which hatch into new members after 10 minutes. Juvenile SCP-236 look identical to adults, but are smaller in size and lack the chemicals used in the defensive response. Juveniles reach full adult size after 6 hours. SCP-236 individuals appear to fear light, rapid movement, or loud noises. This fear is reduced in proportion to the number of units in a swarm, but even large collectives can be startled by a sudden sound or bright light. SCP-236 that are startled while mimicking an object will rapidly break apart into individual units, which will then scatter and hide. Swarm regrouping can take up to 24 hours. When cornered or unable to escape quickly, SCP-236 units will initiate their defensive response. This entails a unit raising its pincers and then detonating with an explosion equivalent to 9.07 kilograms or 20 pounds of C4 explosive. Initial research suggests that this is the result of an internal chemical reaction involving the mixing of three normally inert chemicals. Collection of these chemicals has been problematic due to the relatively minute size of the storage chambers and the likelihood of startling SCP-236 during the procedure. SCP-236 will use humans or any other living thing as a resource, provided the swarm is of a sufficient size. Moderate size swarms can convert a whole human being in less than 5 minutes. Individual SCP-236 have also been observed entering the human body, typically while the subject is asleep and begin to consume it from the inside out. This behavior, coupled with mimicry and the defensive response, make SCP-236 very difficult to detect and contain effectively. Addendum While SCP-236 has not been observed to mimic organic life, the possibility exists for SCP-236 to develop this behavior. Notably, during testing with SCP-236-6 when SCP-236 mimicked a brown bear and began to exhibit increased predatory behavior and data expunged, such formations are to be immediately reported and testing area cleared immediately. Item Number SCP-253 Object Class Euclid Special Containment Procedures At this time, SCP-253 poses a substantial threat to humanity. SCP-253 is to be kept under biosafety level 4 protocols at all times. All research is to be conducted at a site where incineration and irradiation protocols can be swiftly enacted. That is, geographically isolated and does not possess a diverse biosphere. The sterilization protocol shall be enacted following the occurrence of any event on this list. Communications blackout lasting longer than 48 hours. Power disruption lasting longer than one minute during any active experiments involving SCP-253. Abnormal rise in average temperatures beyond a change of 6 degrees Celsius, 11 degrees Fahrenheit, or rising humidity levels to 90% relative humidity. Manifestations of unusual electromagnetic phenomena during testing of SCP-253. At the conclusion of testing, any subjects exposed to SCP-253 are to be disposed of, and their remains are subject to the sterilization protocol. Any researcher leaving the facility is to undergo two weeks of mandatory chemotherapy, followed by a 15-day quarantine. Description SCP-253 is a cluster of undifferentiated human cells, matching the physiological traits of cancer. As per cancerous cells, cultured samples of SCP-253 will grow indefinitely, if given an adequate source of nutrition. SCP-253 is contagious, able to pass from human to human, as well as to some animal species. SCP-253 is not an airborne contagion, but physical contact with surface neoplasms on infected subjects will spread the plague. The first sign of SCP-253 infection is the emergence of skin lesions, typically dime-sized, two centimeters in diameter, in groups of three to five, at the site of infection. Within 12 hours after the appearance of the lesions, MRI scans show the development of neoplasms within the brain. At this time, the neoplasms do not induce neurological symptoms. Over the next 24 to 48 hours, numerous skin lesions start to emerge and grow in size. These lesions often induce substantial swelling in surrounding tissue, which can be quite painful for the subject. Often the pain, if left untreated, leaves many subjects unable to move. Towards the end of the 48-hour period, neoplasms start to emerge in the lymphatic system, and neurological symptoms start to manifest. The neurological symptoms of SCP-253 are different for each patient, depending on which part of the brain the invasive cells have contaminated, with one exception. Each human patient here to forexpose to SCP-253 has felt a complete cessation of pain, 47 to 49 hours after infection. Other neurological symptoms include inability to focus attention, disorganized speech, memory loss, hallucinations, euphoria, megalomania, inappropriate emotional responses, sociopathy, catatonia. The neoplasms do not seem to respond to radiation and chemotherapy, with high dose, mitocintrone, erinotacan, and decarbazine as only minimal effects. Chemotherapy was observed to kill some cells and markedly slow the growth of others, and therefore might be useful for post-exposure prophylaxis, but is ineffective in established disease. If the mass of cancerous cells within a population does not reach a biomass threshold of approximately 1,400 kilograms, 1,400 kilograms or 3,100 pounds, the cells will overwhelm the host within five days, resulting in death. If not transferred to a new host, the cancer cells will consume any remaining usable biomass of the host's corpse before finally running out of resources and dying. However, if the mass of cancer cells within a population reaches the threshold, electromagnetic phenomena will start to manifest. The sources of these phenomena appear to be the infected hosts, but the mechanism of the EM manipulation is not understood at this time. Furthermore, it appears the EM emanations facilitate some sort of communication between the hosts. Coordinated in some fashion by the neoplasms, the hosts start to act as one entity spread through many bodies. The intelligence of this entity is initially animalistic and reactive. As the intelligence of the Gestalt entity is believed to be based on the remaining brain tissue within the hosts, it is hypothesized that the entity may be able to achieve human-like intelligence. The events from incident I.J77.82 appear to support this hypothesis, and research suggests that some of the more unsettling things seen at hospital are manifestations of this intellect. Until suitable methods can be created to jam the EM transmissions of the end-stage infection entity, and until efficacious treatment alternatives for the diseases known as cancer enters common usage, the utmost care must be taken with samples of SCP-253. Addenda. 253A. Proposal that SCP-253 be classified as Euclid is pending review of incident I.J77.82 by the overseers. 253B. SCP-253 has been given provisional Euclid classification. Final report on incident I.J77.82 has been released. Research into the events of incident I.J77.82 has been approved. 253C. Research involving approaching the threshold biomass in human subjects has been denied. Decision on requests to test threshold biomass in cultured samples pending. 253D. Use of SCP-500 in experiments with SCP-253 has been denied. 253E. Use of SCP-427 in experiments with SCP-253 have been approved. Early results are not encouraging. Despite success using 427 to treat other forms of cancer, in this instance, 427 appears to induce accelerated growth in both tumorous growths, as well as in the patient. Subjects were terminated as they neared the critical threshold for use with 427. Request to take patients beyond the critical threshold is pending. Incident I.J77.82 SCP-253 Preamble On date undisclosed, the Foundation became aware of a significant event leading to the quarantine of an entire hospital under the pretext of an Ebola epidemic. Due to reports of the abnormal electromagnetic phenomena associated with the hospital, the report was transmitted through unofficial channels and eventually made its way to the Foundation. Concerned that other groups might get involved, the Foundation sent to investigate the situation. At 1,800 hours, an infiltration squad of the task force entered the hospital. Site investigation summary. Examination of the exterior of the hospital showed no abnormal signs. Telescopic examination through windows showed human shapes of indeterminate origin, moving through the halls of the hospital. Examination of the electromagnetic spectrum showed the hospital was giving off EM energy. Analysis of the signal showed a pulse of consistent energy lasting between 29.2 seconds and 45.1 seconds. This pulse was followed by a 2.3 to 11.2 second cessation of emission. The pulse's energy was primarily concentrated in three bands, 82% in the SHF radio frequency band, 11% in the ELF radio frequency band, and 7% in a band centered near 1.2 terahertz. The SHF pulse initially interfered with the site investigation team's satellite linkups, but a workaround was quickly implemented. The IR spectrum showed a radiation spike consistent with a temperature within the structure of approximately 40 degrees celsius, 100 degrees fahrenheit. Seismic investigation proved inconclusive. Audio logs. Log begins on date undisclosed at 180203. A57. Power is cut to the building, right? A34. Ops confirms the building is physically disconnected from power grid. A57. Why are the lights still on? G1. We're not here to speculate, just to find whatever is causing this and to get out. A29. Damn, it's so hot in here. G1. The eggheads actually anticipated that. Our operations are to be limited to prevent fatigue, overheating, and dehydration. A12. Do you guys feel that? Something's wrong with the floor. G1. What do you mean? A12. Permission to investigate. G1. A57. A34. Check the perimeter. Make sure we're clear. Pause. A34. Clear. A57. Clear. G1. Permission granted. A12. There's some sort of vibration traveling through the floor. No recorded chatter for 123 seconds. A12. It's intermittent. 30 to 40 second bursts of vibration, followed by a 5 to 10 second rest. G1. Alright. We're heading deeper into the structure. Addendum. Prior to being removed from the power grid, investigation had shown that the structure was actually pumping power in the grid. Seismic sensor external to the site did not pick up any vibration, even while a great number of human figures were seen to be moving within the structure. Log begins on date undisclosed at 1812.42. A29. I've got a contact at 10 o'clock. A48. I've got a contact too. G1. No appearance of hostility. Just watch them. A29. Oh God. What's wrong with their faces? G1. We'll get samples on our way out. For now, let's finish up investigation of the first floor and make our way to the second. A12 for the log. A12. Examination of contacts. Subjects appear human with some sort of growths all over them. The contacts are remaining in one spot, but swaying back and forth. The portions of their eyes that I can see that have not been covered by boils show only sclera. G1. A34. A34. Rooms appear empty in disarray. Some of the beds show some sort of brown fluid covering them. This fluid can also be seen on the floors. A12. It almost seems like the lights above the contacts are brighter. Addendum. Samples weren't able to be taken of brown fluid before it was required to destroy and sterilize the site of investigation. Log begins on date undisclosed at 181642. G1. We are making our way up the stairs. About to open doors to the second floor. A34. A deep thump can be heard over the log. A34. The hallways are not lit. It's almost completely dark. Activating flashlight. Oh god. G1. What do you see? A34. They're everywhere. They're filling the hallways. They're making some sort of sound. A deep hollow moaning can be heard over the log. Increasing in intensity. From this point forward, several distortions can be heard on the log. G1. Treat. A34. They're moving close. G1. Fall back. A34. Distortions continue in background. G1. Say again A34. I couldn't hear you over the static. A34. One of them touched me. G1. We'll regroup near the reception desk, A34. You're officially being removed from the mission. A34. Yes, sir. Proceeding to resep... Unknown. Unintelligible. G1. Say again. I didn't hear you. Unknown. Unintelligible. G1. A34. A34. Respond. G1. Team. Roll call with hand sign. A12. A12 in fighting form. A29. A29 in fighting form. A48. A48 in fighting form. A57. A57 in fighting form. G1. G1 in fighting form. Pause. G1. All right. A34 is MIA. We'll proceed to the reception desk. Log begins on date undisclosed at 1820-27. A29. The hell. G1. Dammit, A29. If you're going to respond to something, describe it for the log. A12. Reception desk is covered with the brown fluid from before. Words have been spelled out. From the progenitor. Several symbols are present as well, showing signs of intelligence. A48 is photographing. A57. To R6. They're coming. G1. Defensive positions. Can we make it to the door? A57. Several contacts are in the way. They do not appear to be approaching us, displaying the swaying behavior. G1. We'll retreat that way. A12. What's wrong, A12? A12. They've done something to their faces. G1. What are you talking about? Oh, Jesus. A48. Get a picture of that. A48. That's one way to use a scalpel. Wait a minute. Is that a necklace made of teeth? A29. The fuck, the fuck, the fuck. Sounds of weapon fire. G1. Cease fire. Purchand. Cease fire. Eric. Note. Eric Purchand is A12. Distortions and log increase. A12. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. G1. A34 and A57. Unintelligible. A12. I hope this finds you release. Momentary sound of a large explosion, followed by log cutting out. A29. He just blew himself up? G1. That doesn't matter. They're coming closer. We have to get out. Weapons free. A57. Yes, sir. Static for 37 seconds. Unknown. In prehistory, the essence of life waited in the darkness. Its children turned against it. Now, all will be returned to the essence. Addendum. Past this point, no further portions of the log can be salvaged. A29, A57 and G1 escaped from the hospital. Sterilization protocol was enacted minutes later, as it appeared several of the infected hosts were attempting to escape from the structure. The three survivors of the infiltration team were placed in quarantine, and samples of SCP-253 were obtained from them. Though treatment was attempted, none of them survived past five days. A48 was lost in the retreat, and unfortunately, his camera was unable to be salvaged. Though wireless backup protocols were in use, the distortion effect in the hospital meant a great deal of the photographic evidence collected in incident I.J77.82 is fragmentary. A48s and A34s corpses were found, badly burned. Remains identifiable as A12 were not recovered. Other human remains were found, but with no recognizable trace of SCP-253, the sterilization site has been determined to be devoid of all traces of SCP-253, and will leave Foundation custody six months after the release of this incident report. End of incident report I.J77.82 Item Number SCP-378 Object Class FAMIL Notice from the Foundation records and information security administration. Following the implementation of the Kraken protocol on 2706-1963, containment procedures for SCP-378 have been updated. Personnel assigned to the SCP-378 project are to review its updated documentation as soon as possible. Claudia Southey, Director, RISA. Special Containment Procedures SCP-378 is to be contained in a subterranean entity containment terrarium. Temperature and humidity are to be maintained at levels optimal for the growth and habitation of heterodermia cane crow, eutica cave lichen, and prenelepis Everettman, North American cave ant. Twice per year, SCP-378 is to undergo a medical and psychological examination. Access to SCP-378's containment terrarium is separated from the surrounding facility by a decontamination chamber. Handling personnel are required to wear full body protection and must be screened for SCP-378-A prior to exiting decontamination. Infected personnel are to be terminated unless the position of SCP-378-1 or 3 is vacant, in which case they are to be assigned to the relevant position instead. As of the adoption of the Kraken protocol, SCP-378's containment is focused on maintaining its three primary containment components. SCP-378-1 is housed in the area 19 Barracks. SCP-378-1 is employed as a maintenance technician with a security clearance of O-slash A-19. Upon the death of the current SCP-378-1, brain dead or comatose reserve personnel may be elected to replace it. As SCP-378-1 is the primary means of communication with SCP-378, care must be maintained to keep SCP-378-1's vocal functions in working order. SCP-378-2 currently takes the form of David Lockheed, a 36-year-old Caucasian male in the employee of the American Supernatural Containment Initiative, ASCII, as a clerical aide. To maintain the continued operations of the SCP Foundation in the United States, SCP-378-2 has been tasked with sabotaging ASCII operations against the Foundation, as well as collecting information in the Foundation's interests. SCP-378-2 is expected to follow a strict health and exercise regimen, due to the inherent difficulty in replacing it. SCP-378-3 currently takes the form of Lisa Martin, a 33-year-old Mexican-American female employee at the Spicy Crust Pizza in Staten Island. In the event of SCP-378-3's death, it must be replaced as soon as possible. Each component is fitted with a tracking device and an audio recorder. Each week, embedded agents stationed near each component are to evaluate the health and integrity of each component and its associated surveillance equipment. The utilization of SCP-378-A in further infiltration is pending Foundation Overwatch approval. Description SCP-378 is an arthropod, superficially resembling a deformed larval instance of Scolopendra Gigantia, the Amazonian giant centipede. SCP-378's legs are largely vestigial, primarily meant to assist in peristaltic locomotion. SCP-378 measures 3 meters from mouth to anus, with a bodily thickness of 1 meter and a weight of 233 kilograms. Under normal conditions, SCP-378 is an omnivore, with a diet consisting primarily of lichen and insects. SCP-378 is capable of asexual reproduction at will, producing instances of SCP-378-A from its anus. Instances of SCP-378-A resemble adult Scolopendra Gigantia. Dissection suggests this resemblance is superficial, as SCP-378-A lack expected organ systems beyond a primitive neural network. Instances of SCP-378-A are controlled remotely by SCP-378. SCP-378-A are obligate endoparasites, infecting advanced primates such as humans, Homo ignotus, data expunged, and Gigantipithecus sapiens, common Sasquatch. Upon infection, SCP-378-A integrates itself with its host's nervous system, through poorly understood means, inducing brain death, and extending SCP-378's remote control to the host itself. Vital functions and sensory input remain unaffected. Upon infecting a suitable host, SCP-378 will attempt to reintegrate its hosts into their respective species' social sphere. Once integrated, SCP-378 directs its hosts to indefinitely engage in the behaviors typical for its species, such as communal labor and social recreation. Human hosts prefer environments with a high population density and a robust entertainment scene. The upper limit of active hosts, SCP-378 can maintain at any one time, is unknown. Upon initial interrogation, SCP-378 confessed to the existence of 26 human hosts, as well as two instances of Alawata Pigra, Guatemalan Black Howler, and three instances of SCP-1000, of which it noted had been acquired during a period of heavy intoxication. Addendum 178-294b, a psychological evaluation of SCP-378, conducted by Dr. Simon Glass. Tentatively designated Scolopendra Anomalia, SCP-378 is unique among arthropods, possessing either human levels of sapiens, or the ability to emulate its hosts' intellectual faculties. In any case, SCP-378 is self-aware and remarkably intelligent. SCP-378's relationship to its hosts is complicated. While SCP-378 maintains a consistent sense of identity across multiple hosts, each is treated as a persona for SCP-378 to roleplay. Hosts rarely interact with SCP-378 or fellow hosts. Suggesting SCP-378 primarily utilizes its anomalous abilities for entertainment. This is further suggested by SCP-378's readiness to abandon such personas under duress. Aside from integration into human social spheres, host behavior is largely unique to each instance. Extraversion is relatively common. Hosts rarely isolate themselves except to sleep or excrete. SCP-378 appears to take equal enthusiasm in stressful versus pleasant situations. Of note, SCP-378 is particularly attached to the identity of Lisa Martin. In contrast to other hosts, Lisa Martin's weekly routine is relatively static. From 8am to 6pm on all days except Saturday, Ms. Martin will show up to work at the nearest pizzeria from the former location of Digian Antonio's Pies, regardless of employment status or scheduled hours. From 6pm to 11pm on all days except Saturday, Ms. Martin will engage in the maintenance of one of 17 rooftop gardens across the city of New York. Of these, 13 are maintained by a cooperative, 12 of which Ms. Martin is not a part of. From 8am to 11pm on Saturdays, Ms. Martin alternates between socializing with a collection of friends, coworkers and lovers and playing piano for various high-end bars. From 11pm to 12am, Ms. Martin will shower and prepare for bed. Ms. Martin will sleep from 12am to 7am when she will wake up and prepare for the next cycle. In the event of Ms. Martin's death, SCP-378 will direct another host to assume her identity. Attempts to interrupt Ms. Martin's routine have been unilaterally met with unusual levels of hostility from SCP-378 and its hosts. From Assistant Director Daniela Hayden, Classification Level Rise of 4, Employee Number 134, 2, Director Kelsey Feinstein, Classification Level XK4, Employee Number 87, Regarding, Regarding, Regarding, Regarding, Identifying Current Hosts, Date, 2704 1963, Director Feinstein. Mr. Song and Dr. Glass' work have revealed quite a bit about SCP-378. Most importantly, I do not believe it understands the significance of social dynamics, especially in regards to hierarchy and social capital. Several of SCP-378's identities held surprising positions of power. Indeed, two of them, David Lockheed and Alfonso Leos, are beyond reach of the Foundation's current capacity to contain. Despite this, SCP-378 has shown a willingness to sacrifice such hosts in order to defend, replace, or otherwise maintain Lisa Martin. Odd, yes, but useful enough. It'd be a shame if something were to happen to Ms. Martin and her friends, would it not? SCP-378 is sapient, but it by no means understands the significance of its actions. With a little bit of persuasion, David Lockheed might yet ascend from petty paper pusher for the ASCII, right where the Foundation most needs a puppet. And, if I'm not mistaken, Spicy Crust Pizza can always do with a second franchise. Proposal, Employing SCP-378's anomalous abilities to defend Foundation operations in the United States. Council votes summary, approved. Proposal accepted, the Kraken Protocol has been initiated. From Senior Researcher Sanghun Song, Classification Level Gamma U3, Employee Number 148, Two, Director Kelsey Feinstein, Classification Level XK4, Employee Number 87, Regarding Delays in the Gamma U2677 Project, Date, 2107, 1965. So, good news and bad news, Director. Good news, as I'm assuming you already heard. With the plans for construction of Site-56, all thanks to a certain Mr. Lockheed, the Kraken Protocol is getting a much needed expansion. With its relative proximity to both the lily of the Valley Nexus and the Pacific Northwest, it's a perfect opportunity to expand the scope of SCP-1000's containment, while ensuring the ASCII doesn't suck LOTV dry before we get to it. For all its oddities, SCP-378 appears to be delighted at the prospect of a change in scenery. I can't imagine a tropical centipede grub likes having a sphere of influence limited to New England of all places, but that's besides the point. Its A was compliant enough on the way there. Which leads me to the bad news. Rupert Tramonza, fun little guy. Agent of the FBI's unofficial, unusual incidents unit, and all too stupid to trust Agent Ryan's with his drink while he went to the restroom. After that, it's a matter of transport back to Provisional Area 56 in Blackrock, and a centipede down the gullet. Problem comes up when 378 tells us it can't establish a connection. Now, Tramonza's still alive, so that's not normal. We run a number of tests, try to figure out what went wrong. And that's when we see a different centipede in his head, where our centipede usually goes. More to come, but I have a bad feeling about this. Item Number SCP-408 Object Class Safe Special Containment Procedures The screen mesh aviary must be kept properly maintained by level 2 personnel, with backgrounds in biology or lepidoptery. Proper humidity must be maintained and recorded once per day, and backed up to site 17. 200 feeters filled with an aqueous sugar solution are to be maintained and refilled once per week. Description SCP-408 is a large mass of lepidoptera, taking the appearance of zebra butterflies when not camouflaged. SCP-408 acts as a single entity at all times, speculated to be a form of hive mind communication amongst the mass. When inactive, SCP-408 will take on the color, pattern, and even texture of its immediate surroundings, making them functionally invisible. When threatened, SCP-408 has been observed to take on the form and appearance of a number of threatening creatures as a defense method, including a pride of lions, a tyrannosaurus rex, and most notably, SCP-682. SCP-408 possesses the ability to communicate and reason, utilizing its ability to manipulate its color into words and sentences to reply to researchers. IQ tests administered to SCP-408 have evaluated its IQ to be 109, or slightly above average. However, when a part of the swarm is isolated, lower scores have been reported, resulting in a theory that SCP-408 shares its cognitive capacity amongst the entirety of the swarm. As of date expunged, SCP-408 prefers to be identified by its SCP number. SCP-408 was discovered and expunged, Brazil, after reports that locals and logging teams found their maps to be frequently inaccurate regarding the size of the rainforest. After reports of animal sightings not local to either the Brazilian rainforest, and some not found on Earth at all, Foundation agents began an investigation, resulting in the discovery of SCP-408. After learning it was intelligent, Dr. Brown, who accompanied the agents in the field, communicated with SCP-408, and convinced it to accompany him to Site-17, where their current habitat exists. Addendum 408A. Regarding SCP-408's knowledge of SCP-682, an investigation is underway regarding this leak of information. Incident 408A. Due to a failure by appropriate personnel to properly refill 408's feeders, the swarm took it upon itself to find sustenance by its own means. Taking the appearance of several Level 1 personnel, SCP-408 convinced a passerby to open the door to the aviary, upon which they made an escape into the Site-17 facility. For the whole of the day, Site-17 personnel reported an alarming series of irregular events, ranging from color-changing walls to several dozen versions of SCP-529 walking down a hallway. Site-17 was placed on lockdown, and Delta Level Alert when it appeared that 90% of the containment units had been breached. Dr. Kondraki, head of research for 408, had been out on assignment that day, and it wasn't until his return that the illusion had been revealed, and in short order, SCP-408 was returned to its aviary. Little damage was done, except to the faculty break room, which was left without proper sweeteners for the next week. Note, it may be just sugar water, but without it, 408 is prone to mischief, as we clearly saw yesterday. It's fortunate that it doesn't act maliciously, but think about others next time you slack off custodial duties. Think about yourself as well, as I will not tolerate having to use sweet and low in my morning coffee for very long. Dr. Kondraki Addendum 408b Recent field testing has shown that SCP-408 can act as an effective form of active invisibility when ordered to. SCP-408 was able to conceal 5 Level 2 personnel, and keep them undetected throughout the facility. Tests show the concealment to operate at 99.997% efficiency, and can be maintained for up to 5 hours without need for rest or recuperation. The option of lending SCP-408 to task forces for covert operations is pending approval. Addendum 408c During incident 239b-CLEF Kondraki, which SCP-408 was heavily involved in, a number of corpses left by Dr. KLEF vanished in the aftermath of the event. Surveillance showed that at certain times, the entire swarm of SCP-408 would descend on the body, only to leave no trace of the corpse behind. Subsequent testing shows a proportional increase in IQ, although a lack of cooperation when questioned has shed no light on this development. Interview Log 408c Interviewer Dr. Sagai Interviewer SCP-408 Dr. Sagai is seated within the aviary, while SCP-408 hovers around a large feeding trough, filled with sugar water. Dr. Sagai I'll start off with asking how you're recovering. You seem to have lost quite a bit of your mass after the SCP-531D termination. SCP-408 responds by uniformly creating words one after the other. SCP-408 Kondraki Where? Dr. Sagai I'm his substitute for the interview, as he happens to be busy adjusting to his new promotion. Lots of paperwork, I'm told. A moment goes by. SCP-408 I. Fine. Recover. Good. Food. Good. Dr. Sagai, how exactly do you replenish your numbers? SCP-408 COMP- Another pause. SCP-408 Decaded. Don't. Know. Word Dr. Sagai Was Dr. Kondraki the one who taught you to speak? SCP-408 Yes. Teach up. Lot Dr. Sagai He taught you, but how do you communicate with him? SCP-408 Don't. Know. Word. Lost. In. Space Dr. Sagai You lost the part that knew? SCP-408 Yes. I. Forget. Until. Return. Dr. Sagai Next question then. What happened with SCP-091-ARC and you during the incident a few months ago? SCP-408 Pretty. Smell. Familiar. Long. Time. Dr. Sagai You mean you'd smelled it before? SCP-408 Yes. Before. Long. Before. People. Dr. Sagai Are you saying you predate human existence? No response from SCP-408. Dr. Sagai Never mind. Doesn't matter. Last question. Dr. Sagai closes the interview questionnaire and sets it onto the ground. Dr. Sagai What is the nature of your relationship with Dr. Kundraki? SCP-408 He. Think. Right. He. Right. Dr. Sagai That's not what I meant. Log show that you're with him out of containment. Almost all of the time now. Dr. Kundraki has been breaching protocol by letting you out of containment. SCP-408 I don't know what. Dr. Sagai You're going to admit this to me so I can bring it before oversight. Do you know what I was doing before that schmuck snatched me up as an assistant? I was head of research for the entire subhuman safe SCP sector. Now I'm interviewing a damn insect. I will have him thrown out. Oversight won't let him get away with this. SCP-408 proceeds to approximate a laugh, as described in the log as a caricatured face displayed by SCP-408. Dr. Sagai Are you laughing at me? I'm about to have your little friend terminated and you're having a chuckle. SCP-408 shifts to display a new image, which was presumed to be a live feed of Dr. Kundraki in his new office. Dr. Sagai No, that's not possible. I read the damn logs. You can't do that. You can't do that. Dr. Sagai attempts to damage SCP-408. Guards later found Dr. Sagai huddled in a fetal position, displaying symptoms similar to post traumatic stress syndrome. Item number SCP-414 Object Class Keter Special Containment Procedures SCP-414 is currently uncontained. Containment efforts focus upon mitigating media attention and providing social work programs to demographics targeted by SCP-414. Individuals affected by SCP-414 iterations must be dosed with class B amnestics upon discovery and are to be kept under observation. Individuals reaching the final stage of SCP-414 II are to be contacted by a foundation social work front company. Individuals under final stage SCP-414 II are to be treated with tri-weekly talk therapy and trained animal companions where applicable. As it is beyond the foundation's resources to perform surveillance on every possible target of SCP-414, records from social work organizations and mental health care centers are to be trawled for SCP-414 phenomena where possible. Any media reporting of SCP-414 phenomena are to be removed in a cover story provided. A list of applicable cover stories can be found in document 414-B. A cure for SCP-414 II is to be considered the highest priority after successful and complete containment. Dr. Alice Ogawa, Principal SCP-414 Researcher Description SCP-414 is a phenomenon that targets asocial humans and is categorized into two derivative effects SCP-4141 and SCP-4142. The asociality may range from minor introversion to complete isolation. SCP-414 primarily affects individuals under the NEAT, not in education, employment, or training demographic, with no regional preference. SCP-414 begins when a humanoid in a circular mask, referred to as SCP-4141, appears in front of a targeted human. SCP-4141 typically claims to be an employee for a local social work organization. SCP-4141 are uniformly tall humanoids, wearing circular masks and clothing that covers the whole body. SCP-4141 only appear when attempting to contact a targeted individual and disappear after successful contact has occurred. SCP-4141 is believed to have a single collective consciousness, capable of sapience, cognizance, and intelligence. SCP-4142 is a chronic degenerative condition, resulting from any successful interaction between a targeted subject and an instance of SCP-4141. Successful interaction occurs when SCP-4141 has a successful face-to-face conversation or contact with a targeted subject. A subject that has contracted SCP-4142 undergoes four stages, lasting between 2 and 276 days, with a fifth stage believed to be permanent. Individuals who are under 30 years of age, or who received SCP-4142 through physical contact, progress through stages at an accelerated rate. Overview of document 4142A, symptom progression description of SCP-4142. Stage 1 Subject feels increasingly lonely. Coping mechanisms not involving face-to-face interaction to distract from loneliness causes an increase of feeling. Subject experiences a loss of pleasure when participating in solitary activities. Stage 1 advances when the subject interacts with another human to alleviate loneliness. Stage 2 Subject experiences a total loss of pleasure when participating in activities not involving in-person interactions with others. Subject begins to have difficulty in recalling events in their life that contributed significantly to their sense of self, but is cognizant of and can recall having such events. Stage 2 advances when the subject interacts with other humans at least once every seven days. Stage 3 Subject is incapable of feeling fulfillment, unless interacting with other humans once every five days. They are unable to recall ever enjoying solitary activity or their life before the age of 13. Subject remains cognizant of this inability. Their sense of self is reduced. Stage 3 advances when the subject participates in social events at least once every seven days. Stage 4 Subject is incapable of feeling fulfillment without interacting with other humans once every 45 hours. They are unable to recall having significant relationships lasting more than two years and are cognizant of this inability. Any sense of self is reduced to name, gender, age, and current emotional state. Subject usually becomes highly productive to feel fulfillment, participating in a range of social activities such as volunteering and hosting gatherings. The circumstances to advance stage 4 are currently unknown. Stage 5 This is currently considered the final stage. Subject develops hallucinations and sensations of being physically hollow or empty when not currently participating in social activities, causing them to become upset when not in proximity to another person for any length of time over 15 minutes. They are unable to recall having significant relationships and are cognizant of this inability. At least, individuals have been confirmed to have reached stage 5. For a list of confirmed SCP-4142 cases and extensive description, please refer to document 4142A. Notable cases of SCP-4142 are 4142 MacGyver Jacob, the current oldest case, and 414 Kyung Myung, with the shortest recorded interval between diagnosis and suicide of 48 hours. There is no cure or treatment available beyond coping mechanisms. SCP-4142 has a fatality rate of 46.78% over 5 years and 67.84% over 10 years. Individuals over the age of 40 have significantly higher fatality rates of 87.23% over 5 years and 93.85% over 10 years. All fatalities are a result of suicide. 09-12-2014 Incident 414A At 602, Dr. Eliza Chuang, then Principal SCP-414 Research Scientist, was contacted by three SCP-4141. Dr. Chuang at a successful conversation transcribed below. Dr. Chuang was succeeded by their primary assistant, Dr. Alice Ogawa, immediately after Incident 414A. Despite constant social interaction and animal companionship, Dr. Chuang committed suicide on 09-03-2015, 965 days after advancing to stage 5 SCP-4142. Transcript of Incident 414A Begin Log 602 Three SCP-4141 humanoids appear at Dr. Chuang's office door. Dr. Chuang can be seen walking to their office. Dr. Chuang stops upon seeing the group of SCP-4141. 603 The group of SCP-4141 moved towards Dr. Chuang at a speed of approximately 1 meter per second. One SCP-4141 humanoid grasps Dr. Chuang by the wrist as they attempt to leave. Dr. Chuang begins to struggle and shout for assistance. 604 Security Arrives Dr. Chuang can be seen waving their free arm and shouting, do not approach, do not talk. Stand there, please. Security draws weapons and aims at the group of SCP-4141, but do not fire. Dr. Chuang turns back to the group of SCP-4141. 606 Dr. Chuang, calmly, if you wouldn't mind, could you answer a few questions? Why are you doing this? How do you benefit by doing this to people? 608 SCP-4141 In Unison They work so little. They are held up when they need to be the foundation. The young so much so. I will help every one of you. 610 Dr. Chuang Even when they kill themselves. Even when they forget who they are. How does that help? What is your reasoning? 612 SCP-4141 In Unison It is a last usefulness to society. To die and leave resources for others. Others make use of them. Forget yourself for your society. You cannot be egotistical when the ego is carved out. Selfishness. I will cure it by excising the tumor. I cure society and make the lost find purpose. I help. 614 Dr. Chuang, agitatedly. But society needs that. They need individuals. Selfishness can drive and motivate success. 615 SCP-4141 Recoiling Collectively You are sicker than I thought. You may be kind among your human populace. But I have surely known kinder men. I thought you, who worked for the good of all, would be my ally. But it's alright. I will take care of you. You will feel better when I'm done with you. 616 Dr. Chuang, why did you come to me? Who are you? Where are you from? And how do you work? Dr. Chuang can be seen attempting to free themselves from the grip on their arm. 615 SCP-4141 In Unison You want to stop us. But you are trying to stop helping. You are secure, contain, protect. I am society, community, progress. A shepherd for humans. You are a sick lost lamb. Not for much longer. 617 Dr. Chuang attempts to speak. But an SCP-4141 instance puts a gloved finger to their lips. The instance pets Dr. Chuang's head and presses its mask against the side of their head, accompanied by a kissing sound. 618 The group of SCP-4141 produces a flash of light and the camera feed cuts for 0.3 seconds. When the feed is returned, all SCP-4141 instances are missing. Dr. Chuang kneels on the floor, head in hands, and log. Transcript of Interview 41456 Interviewed Dr. Eliza Chuang Interviewer Dr. Alice Ogawa Forward This interview occurs 35 days after Dr. Chuang is confirmed to have entered Stage 5 SCP-4142. Begin log. Dr. Ogawa, good morning, Dr. Chuang. How are you feeling? Dr. Chuang, excitedly. Good morning. Your face is so... ah, it matters little. You are here. It is good to see you. Dr. Ogawa, could you explain what you were about to say regarding my face? Dr. Chuang, calming down. Ah, just... it was so... I once knew a face. I once cared for someone. An assistant. I had an assistant. But I don't remember them. Dr. Ogawa, I see. How do you feel when you remember that you used to remember? Dr. Chuang, it is an unpleasant emotion, definitely. I remember that I used to know and feel so much. I once had a past, but it's gone now. I used to have a project, but that's gone now. It's all gone. But enough about me. What's important to you? Tell me more about yourself. Dr. Ogawa, my research is important to me. It was the life work of my mentor, and now it's become mine. It's what connects me to them. Dr. Chuang, it's good. You have something to believe in. That's necessary. Someone always has to believe in something, with all their being. That's how humanity makes progress. Individuals pursuing what they believe in. Where's your mentor now? Dr. Ogawa, quietly. No longer with me, as I understand it. Dr. Chuang, how unfortunate. I'm so sorry. Can I help you? Maybe be your assistant, or keep you company in the laboratories. As I understand, they can get very quiet and lonely. Dr. Ogawa begins to get up. Thank you for the offer, but I think we're done now. Dr. Chuang, wait. Please, wait just a moment. Could you at least tell me your name? Dr. Ogawa, leaving quietly. Alice, just Alice. Dr. Chuang, I'm glad to have known you, Alice. I'm sure this research is stressful for you. I'm sure you've made your mentor proud, and I think that's what an assistant would want, is to succeed their mentor. Dr. Ogawa, whispering. Not as much as I want them back. Thank you for your kind words. Goodbye. Dr. Chuang, goodbye. Smiling widely, waving. Keep your head high. It'll get better. Have faith. End log. Closing statement. Dr. Ogawa no longer performs routine interviews with Dr. Chuang. Routine interviews will be conducted by Dr. K. M. Item number, SCP-421. Object class, Euclid. Special containment procedures. SCP-421 is contained near sector 28, by means of a steel anti-submarine net, positioned across the mouth of the bay found at the net is to be examined for damage weekly by sector 28 staff, or immediately upon observation of abnormal behavior of SCP-421. Civilian shipping should be prevented from entering the bay. Nautical charts have been altered to indicate the presence of subsurface rocks, dangerous to vessels throughout the area. The bay containing SCP-421 has been dredged by foundation vessels to allow for simulation of a deep sea environment. As it is believed, this encourages SCP-421 to remain docile. SCP-421 should be fed on a bimonthly basis. Standard feed consists of a wooden fishing vessel, typically at least 15 meters in length, and preferably in a dilapidated condition. The feed vessels should be floated out into the middle of the SCP-421 bay before being scuttled. It is noted that SCP-421 could theoretically consume significantly more material than it is currently provided with. Current feeding protocols are designed to maintain the total mass of SCP-421 at the present level. Description SCP-421 is an organism comprised entirely of driftwood and other oceanic waste. The exact configuration of the organism appears to be in constant flux, but typically consists of a centralized body of relatively tightly packed driftwood surrounded by a shoal of smaller organisms similar in appearance and behavior to fish. Individual members of the shoal are regularly subsumed or created from the main body and have demonstrated no ability to reconfigure themselves while separated from the bulk of SCP-421. It is hypothesized that SCP-421 possesses a hive intelligence, similar to that observed in social insects. Members of the SCP-421 shoal are able to travel independently for several kilometers, beyond which they lose integrity and are reduced to simple driftwood with no known anomalous properties. Though typically docile, SCP-421 requires a regular supply of fresh wood to maintain its mass. The role of the shoal appears to be to locate suitable material and transport it to the main body, within which it rapidly becomes indistinguishable from the wider mass of driftwood. Sources of this wood vary. SCP-421 has been observed harvesting wood from shipwrecks and collecting material floating at the ocean surface. SCP-421 has also been recorded assaulting ships, with the shoal typically ramming against a single point below the waterline, until the target capsizes, before stripping the vessel of all wooden components within reach. SCP-421 was first encountered in 1971, following the unexplained destruction of a yacht, owned by Data Expunged. Survivors reported sailing through an unexpected mass of driftwood that appeared to be moving against the prevailing current. Soon after initial contact with the mass, the yacht was hauled and rapidly began to sink. Reports that the driftwood appeared to be dragging parts of the yacht beneath the surface were dismissed by local investigators, but attracted the attention of the Foundation, who assumed responsibility for the case. An extensive underwater survey eventually found some traces of the wreck of the yacht. An estimated 80% of the vessel's wooden structure was missing. Sporadic reports of similar incidents continued throughout the next two decades, during which time SCP-421 is believed to have been responsible for the loss of vessels a year. SCP-421 was captured in 1990 and moved to its current containment location. Since this date, dozens of reports of events similar to its attacks have been recorded. It is speculated that at least one more wild shoal still exists. Addendum 421A During scheduled feeding on Data Expunged, anomalous behavior by SCP-421 was recorded. The shoal harvesting the provided wreck was estimated as 50% larger than normal, resulting in a far quicker assimilation of material into the main body of the SCP. Subsequent monitoring of SCP-421 revealed that the central mass had condensed into a denser configuration than normal, and that the feeding shoal did not subsequently rejoin it, instead remaining in close proximity as a cloud surrounding the main body. Two days after initial observation of anomalous behavior, the central mass of SCP-421 was recorded settling close to the seafloor. A part of the shoal was observed to leave the cloud and begin moving around the compound in what has been described as an exploratory pattern, seemingly in an effort to retrieve any material not yet subsumed into SCP-421. Though it had decreased in density since the feeding, ultrasound monitoring of the main body appeared to indicate the formation of a solid structure within it, distinguishable from the standard mass of SCP-421 as not being in constant motion. On this basis, authorization was granted for the use of an ROV to examine the interior of the central mass. Upon deployment of ROV, the SCP-421 shoal appeared to become agitated. ROV was able to successfully penetrate the outer cloud surrounding the main body of SCP-421. Contact was lost soon after. The wreckage of the ROV was subsequently drawn into the central mass of SCP-421. This is believed to be the first time SCP-421 has damaged a non-wooden vessel. Investigation is ongoing. Item Number SCP-428 Object Class Euclid Special Containment Procedures SCP-428 is to be contained in a 5 meter by 5 meter by 5 meter cell. The containment walls are to be electrified with 30,000 volts. Entrance to the cell via a corridor airlock and access to SCP-428 is restricted to level 3 researchers and below, while escorted by two armed guards. Personnel are to keep 2 meters minimum away from SCP-428 at all times. When not under research, two armed guards are to be on duty at all times. Due to SCP-428's effects, all D-class personnel are to be screened for low IQs and skills that are deemed non-threatening to Foundation security or potential escape attempts. A single D-class personnel due for termination is to be offered once per month to keep SCP-428 satisfied. However, this will result in the need for an increase in containment space or for a solution to keep SCP-428 neutralized in the future. Description SCP-428 is, in appearance, a crowd of huddled human beings. As of 2012 expunged, it consists of 14 people. While huddled in a circle, SCP-428 is to be considered an adornment state. In this state, the crowd moves with a gentle sway and can be heard audibly mumbling. Upon further inspection, the biological internals, organs, bones, muscles, and fluids, leaving only the skin, have been removed from each individual and replaced with an unidentified material that attaches to a central amorphous mass in the middle of the crowd via lengths of flesh similar to umbilical cords. The crowd will not move away from this mass unless a person comes within 2 meters of the central mass. At this point, the crowd will move into its hostile state. The people of SCP-428 closest to the person will attempt to grab and pull them into the middle of the crowd. After contact is made for more than 10 seconds, the person will become a new member of SCP-428. Their internal structures will be removed and replaced with the same material as the other members. Should the potential victim escape, SCP-428 will actively seek them, or another potential victim, out. It will attempt to absorb any and all human life within its immediate vicinity. When all human life has been absorbed and they have become members of the crowd, it will return to its dormant state. If SCP-428 does not absorb a human being after a maximum of one month, it will again actively seek them out. It will do this using a variety of different methods. This includes using acquired skills previously known by people it has absorbed. It will also use psychological tactics to lure people into its grasping distance. Wounds inflicted upon SCP-428's crowd heal at an accelerated rate, and do not hinder movement. SCP-428 has been proven to be highly resilient. For instance, a bullet to the leg of a member of the crowd will become lodged, but will not affect the individual's movement, and beyond the substance seeping through, the hole will close up within a few days. However, wounds inflicted upon SCP-428's central mass will cause a great deal of pain to the crowd. This will cause the crowd to collapse in apparent agony, and SCP-428 will retreat from the cause of the injury, using the crowd to protect itself. This has since been used to hurt SCP-428 back into containment. Should a connection between SCP-428 and a member of the crowd be severed, it will excrete the substance within it through all its natural orifices. A sample is currently being studied, and the remains have been incinerated. Note, SCP-428 has a hive mind. It therefore does not have the hindrance of movement that would be expected of a sizeable crowd. It is able to move a large distance, in a relatively short amount of time. It is only limited by the slowest member of the crowd at running speed. SCP-428 appears to maintain some of the memories, skills, and talents of the people it absorbs, and is willing to use these skills to gain further members. Addendum 428A On Date Expunged Before the current containment procedures, SCP-428 managed to pick the lock of its cell using a hairpin and belt buckle for members of the crowd. It then positioned a female member of the group slumped in front of the door, sobbing loudly. Researcher, who was unaware of SCP-428's properties, approached the woman and was abruptly grabbed by the rest of the group. SCP-428 proceeded to move through the facility using Researcher as a frontman, resulting in several casualties before the containment breach was alerted and SCP-428 was recontained. Researchers' comments, people, these casualties are gone. They are SCP-428 now. No matter what it might say or do, they are not your work colleagues nor your friends anymore. Remember this, it may save your life. Right now, and make sure you don't miss any of our upcoming videos.