 Item number SCP-501, Object Class, Euclid Special Containment Procedures SCP-501 is kept in a securely locked opaque safe in a cell 5 meters by 5 meters by 5 meters in site 3. The cell is guarded by two level 2 security guards who undergo daily psychological evaluations. The interior of the cell must also be monitored at all times by no fewer than two security cameras, with a separate guard observing the monitor for each camera. These cameras must be connected to a backup generator so they will continue functioning in the event of a blackout. All requests for experiments must be cleared by at least three overseers. Any personnel attempting to gain unauthorized access to SCP-501's containment cell will either be detained for psychological evaluation or terminated, depending on clearance level. Description Due to the nature of SCP-501's psychological effects when viewed, it is difficult to ascertain an accurate visual description. According to reports from D-Class personnel who have had visual contact with SCP-501, it is an American $1 bill that radiates a glowing amber aura. Robotically controlled chemical analysis indicates that it is chemically identical to ordinary dollar bills. When a person views SCP-501, they are immediately overwhelmed by a desire to obtain it. Studies with D-Class personnel have shown that this desire fades after a time, but that the time increases exponentially the longer SCP-501 is viewed. Further studies have shown that those affected by SCP-501 will stop at nothing to fulfill their desire, willingly resorting to violence and even self-mutilation to achieve their goal. Viewing SCP-501 indirectly through a monitor or while wearing vision-reducing goggles does not seem to hinder SCP-501's effect in any way. An experiment was conducted to ascertain the effect of SCP-501 on individuals who are successful in obtaining it. D-Class member D-501 was chained to the wall of the containment cell, and all other personnel were evacuated from the cell. The security monitors were briefly switched off as a programmed robotic arm opened the safe containing SCP-501, allowing D-501 to view it briefly. The arm then proceeded to move SCP-501 onto a machine in the cell that hermetically sealed SCP-501 in an opaque, jet-black steel case. Researchers then re-entered the cell and unchained D-501 from the wall, allowing him to obtain the sealed SCP-501, at which point, the researchers moved to a safe viewing location to observe the actions of D-501. A speaker was placed on the ceiling, and researchers were instructed to grant all requests made by D-501 that would not involve releasing him from the cell, would not result in possible visual exposure of the researchers to SCP-501, and would not violate safety or security protocols. The test began at 1.43pm. 10.20.09. 1.43pm. Subject acquires the sealed SCP-501. Subject stares at it without blinking for 10 minutes. Some researchers believe that the subject is still able to see SCP-501, even through its sealed case. 10.20.09. 1.53pm. Subject suddenly stops staring and begins to strip all of his clothing. Researchers hear him muttering, I must remove the contamination repeatedly as he does this. 10.20.09. 1.55pm. Subject throws all the removed clothing into the corner of the room, after which he looks into the speaker and requests a razor. Request tentatively granted. The razor is carried in by an armed security guard. Subject takes the item and the guard leaves. Subject immediately and violently shaves off all the hair on his body and discards it in the same corner as his clothes. Subject cuts himself several times in the process, but does not seem to react or notice. As he shaves, he is heard over the speaker repeatedly muttering, be gone, unwanted possessions. Subject discards the razor in a similar fashion to his hair and clothes after he finishes using it. 10.20.09. 2pm. Subject enters a lotus position and begins to meditate without closing his eyes or taking his eyes off of the sealed SCP-501. 10.20.09. 2.23pm. Subject is heard whispering, I see, to himself. He stands up and looks again at the speaker. He says, I hear my renounce all of my worldly possessions other than the Holy One. I do not need anything other than the Holy One. Everything else is a contamination and must be forsaken. A researcher acknowledges the request, after which the subject immediately returns to his meditative stance. 10.20.409. 12pm. Subject ceases breathing. Subject has not moved since he resumed his meditation at 10.20.09 and is presumed to have died of thirst. End log. Item number SCP-513 Object Class, Euclid Special Containment Procedures SCP-513 is to be suspended in a 1 cubic meter block of gelatin and contained within a sound-proofed climate-controlled cell. The gelatin must be inspected daily for any degradation or loss of integrity. An emergency inspection will be carried out immediately following any earthquake, explosion or sonic event grade 2 or higher. While performing the inspection are to wear earplugs and active noise-canceling earmuffs at all times while inside SCP-513's cell. If the gelatin cube shows any signs of degradation such as rips, tears, splits, liquefaction or mold, SCP-513 is to be immediately removed and suspended within a replacement cube by a team of surgically-defend Class D personnel. No other personnel are to enter the cell during this procedure. Any sentient beings exposed to SCP-513 are to be monitored by at least two security personnel at all times. Under absolutely no circumstances may exposure victims be administered sedatives or allowed to fall unconscious. Any victim who does fall unconscious is to be terminated immediately. Class D personnel are to be terminated at the first sign of mental degradation. All other exposure victims may be terminated at their request. If possible, SCP-513-1 is to be apprehended on site. Description Physically, SCP-513 is an unremarkable rusty cowbell. No marks or engravings are visible on its surface due to the large amount of corrosion. Attempts to remove the rust chemically or mechanically have had no success. SCP-513 was recovered by Agent B while carrying out containment re-establishment procedure MU at Site B. SCP-513's clapper was firmly held in place by several strips of duct tape. A single scrap of paper was found, along with SCP-513. Any noise produced by SCP-513 immediately induces strong anxiety in all sentient beings who hear it, regardless of their previous mental status. Exposure victims report feelings of being watched by an unseen entity and present elevated heart rates and blood pressure. Roughly one hour after exposure, exposure victims begin to catch glimpses of SCP-513-1 when opening doors, walking past mirrors, turning their heads, or performing any other action that results in a sudden change in visual perception. Upon being sighted, SCP-513-1 reportedly turns away and runs out of view before disappearing without a trace. Questioning of bystanders indicates that SCP-513-1 is invisible to those who have not been exposed to SCP-513. Victims of SCP-513-1 reoccur every 14 to 237 minutes. This stalking behavior inevitably causes extreme sleep deprivation, as victims are frequently disturbed by SCP-513-1's presence in their quarters. Victims able to fall asleep before SCP-513-1's appearance report being physically assaulted by it. Upon the victim's awakening, SCP-513-1 flees as usual, see Experiment Log 513. This sleep deprivation, along with the mental stress caused by SCP-513-1's behavior, invariably induces paranoia, aggression, hypervigilance, and depression. All test cases but one have ended with the test subject's suicide. Victims of SCP-513-1's appearance are largely unreliable. Test subjects are unable to provide complete accounts of sightings due to their exhaustion, degraded mental health, and disruptive hypervigilance. However, all interrogations thus far indicate that SCP-513-1 is a tall, emaciated humanoid with abnormally large hands. Addendum. Text recovered from sight... You've seen it. Now he can hear you. You've touched it. Now he can see you. Never ring it. If you hear it, he can touch you. Item Number SCP-535 Object Class Euclid Special Containment Procedures SCP-535 is to be kept in a secure storage room at Site B. Subject positive action defenses, explosive, chemical, biological, and mimetic, are to be in place at all times, according to standard operating procedure. SCP-535 itself is to be placed in its own containment unit, a sound-proofed lead-lined steel box of dimensions 4 meters by 4 meters by 4 meters, and of thickness no less than 5 centimeters at all points. SCP-535 is secured to a pedestal in its containment unit, such that it is positioned in the center of the box. No mimetic-based SCPs are to come into contact with SCP-535. No liquid is to come into contact with SCP-535, except under controlled testing circumstances. To facilitate this, the containment unit should be sealed and contain backup dehumidification apparatus. SCP-535 should not be handled directly, except under controlled testing circumstances. If the need to handle SCP-535 arises, it should only be performed by one personnel of level 3 clearance or higher, with no other individuals present in the immediate area, and with mechanical apparatus to prevent being within 1 meter of SCP-535. SCP-535 is not to come in contact with other anomalies associated with information transfer, such as SCP-606. Description SCP-535 appears to be an ordinary 250-milliliter borosilicate glass laboratory beaker. It was recovered from an abandoned storage facility in F*** USA. SCP-535's origin has been traced to a glassware factory in F*** owned by the F*** corporation. To save its manufacture of SCP-535, no evidence of any extra-normal activity has been found in relation to said factory or corporation. All liquid touching the inner surface of SCP-535 will immediately transform into a pale-translucent liquid of viscosity 1.511cp, approximately the viscosity of mercury, from here on designated as SCP-535-1. Other forms of matter are not affected. Consumption of SCP-535-1 has revealed that it is composed of approximately 36% water. However, the remaining 46% encompasses 14 previously unknown substances. It is fit for human consumption, disregarding the non-chemical effects of SCP-535, and produces no visible reactions. When SCP-535-1 is poured out of SCP-535, and comes into contact with a solid or liquid surface, it instantaneously evaporates, leaving no discernible trace. One various forms of information storage or transmission comes within 1 meter of SCP-535-1. SCP-535-1 will activate and change color depending on the nature of the source. The following colors have been observed. Red. All digital media. Computers. Compact discs. Etc. Orange. Radio waves. Yellow. Sound waves. Lime green. Photographic film. Blue. Text and physical visual imagery. The precise hue of blue has been observed to change depending on the medium the texture images are transcribed on. Purple. Magnetic tape. White. The human brain. Black. Data expunged. Analysis of activated SCP-535-1 shows it to be chemically identical to inactivated SCP-535-1. SCP-535-1 appears to absorb information from its surroundings. If activated SCP-535-1 is poured out of SCP-535, it will subsequently transmit the data it has contained to whatever it lands on, if it is compatible in some way. For example, if activated SCP-535-1 comes into contact with a computer and is then poured onto a different computer, the information from the first computer will be copied to the second. If activated SCP-535-1 was poured onto any non-digital device in this case, there would be no effect. In both situations, SCP-535-1 would evaporate and disappear. The amount of SCP-535-1 utilized appears to have no effect, and multiple transmissions of data can be made by conserving the contents of SCP-535. Pouring activated SCP-535-1 on the device which initially activated it has no effect. The various forms of electromagnetic waves able to activate SCP-535-1 will be retransmitted to the surroundings, regardless of the object SCP-535-1 is poured on. Multiple text and images will be transcribed onto any solid surface in the areas where SCP-535-1 is poured onto. Note that text displayed on a digital screen is considered digital media, rather than print. This is invariably in the same medium the text was originally written in. Any large collection of text is usually unreadable, as it is resized to fit inside the area in contact with SCP-535-1, and only a relatively small amount of SCP-535-1 is available at any one time, due to SCP-535's small size. When a living human comes within range of SCP-535-1, SCP-535-1 turns white. However, human memories and thoughts are not retransmitted with the same efficiency as other information. The effects of pouring active white SCP-535-1 onto another person are highly unpredictable. In benign situations, the subject may acquire a minor fact or memory. Far more common, however, is mental illness, including but not limited to schizophrenia, disassociative identity disorder, severe anxiety, or generalized hallucinations. Schizophrenia is also a common effect. In the most extreme cases, coma, followed by death, may occur. So far, no pattern has been discerned as to the potential effects of active white SCP-535-1. Further testing with caution is warranted. The mental contents of other beings do not affect SCP-535-1, with the exception of data expunged, resulting in data expunged. Addendum, Dr. Ward has suggested using the replicative properties of SCP-535 with regards to physical media to reproduce substances of value to the Foundation. This proposal has been approved by O5-2, and preliminary experimentation has been scheduled. Item number, SCP-538. Object Class, Euclid. All instances of SCP-538 are to be contained within a flush white 15x15x3 meter room with no fewer than four overhead 200 watt lights. These lights are to be centered above a 1x2x0.5 meter block table stationed in the center of the containment area and shining at all times. One class D personnel in a chemically induced coma is to be kept medically stable upon the table and will serve as the feed source for all specimens of SCP-538. No source of shade should be present in the room other than that provided by the class D. If at any point a light in SCP-538's containment area burns out, a crew of two security personnel are to be sent in through an adjacent airlock. Personnel are to be equipped with sealed hazardous materials suits, complete with independent oxygen tanks, and advised to move slowly and deliberately in order to avoid agitating SCP-538. They are to replace the burnt out bulb and, upon completion of their task, are to return to the airlock. Once personnel are isolated within the airlock, they are to be flushed with 300 watt white light in order to assure no instances of SCP-538 are clinging to their person. If at any time all four lights are to go out simultaneously, the chamber is to be sealed along with all observation ports. Until means of relighting SCP-538's chamber are available, the containment area is to remain in lockdown. If at any time personnel are bitten by SCP-538, the infected individual must be placed within SCP-538's chamber as soon as possible. Failure to do so could result in massive breach of containment, and will result in termination of responsible individual. Note, security personnel are to be periodically screened for any unusual phobias. Any personnel found to exhibit any degree of arachnophobia is to be reassigned. Description, SCP-538 appears to be animate shadows of an unknown species of spiders. SCP-538 appears to feed off of the shadows of other living objects, and will move to the nearest shadow cast by a living organism. To feed, SCP-538 does no more than attach itself to the shadow of its host, in such a manner that its own shadow is not obscured. Through this manner, a single specimen of SCP-538 can grow up to approximately 15 square centimeters in size. Feeding after this point appears to simply maintain this size. The whole process has so far proven to be harmless to the host. While a specimen can attach itself to an inanimate object to feed, it will slowly atrophy and decrease in size over time. Only when connected to the shadow of a living organism can SCP-538 thrive. SCP-538 has shown itself capable of going short distances through open well-lit areas, such as to reach a nearby host, or to escape a source of agitation. However, it will rapidly decrease in size at a rate of nearly 2 square centimeters per second, for the length of time it is not attached to a shadow. Should a specimen be stranded out in the open long enough, it will eventually decrease to nothing, at which point it can be considered deceased. Top land speed has been observed at approximately 1 meter per second when at maximum size. SCP-538 has shown itself to be capable of slipping through cracks greater than 3 millimeters in height. Dances less than this distance appear impassable. While generally benign, SCP-538 can and will attack its host if frightened. Frightening SCP-538 generally involves a rapid movement by its host, at which point it will bite the organism's shadow before attempting to flee. Bite must occur on bare skin to cause effects. Clothing material consisting of cotton or anything sturdier will provide sufficient protection. Upon being bitten, an individual will go through five different stages within the space of an hour. Note that bitten individuals may attempt to hide their condition. Therefore, any individual exhibiting the following symptoms must be contained immediately. Stage 1 Upon agitation, SCP-538 will bite the shadow of its aggressor. Subject will report pain in relative area bitten on shadow. However, no puncture or wound will appear in this location. Subject will quickly become irritable, snapping at those around him. Stage 2 Ten to fifteen minutes after being bitten, subject will begin perspiring heavily, but may report feeling cold. Skin will become red and warm to the touch. Stage 3 Twenty five to thirty minutes after being bitten, subject will become violent and aggressive, attempting to start conflict with those around him. Speech will be slurred, and motor skills may be impaired. Subject will resort to violence, often attacking those closest to him. Stage 4 Forty to forty five minutes after being bitten, subject's skin color will turn pale and paste colored, and their core temperature will drop between five and eight degrees Celsius. Subject will be apologetic to those around him, and may cite that he was not feeling well. Subject will attempt to excuse himself and retreat to a darker area. Stage 5 Fifty five to sixty minutes after being bitten, subject will data-expunged, resulting fluid will be completely translucent and harmless. Subject's shadow will have at this point completely disintegrated into smaller specimens of SCP-538, approximately four square centimeters in area, and, for the lack of a better term, should be considered its offspring. There is currently no cure for being bitten by SCP-538. Death has proven to be ineffective at halting advancement of the condition, but rather skips the process directly to stage 5. Addendum 538A As a result of incident I-538A, no fewer than two security personnel, equipped with two two hundred and fifty watt flashlights, were to be sent in to accompany Dr. Examining Class D. Incident Report I-538A Data-expunged, Site-sector, Containment Chamber 538 Dr. enters Containment Chamber 538 for a routine checkup of D-7821, equipped with standard issue fully sealed hazardous materials suit. Two minutes and twenty-three seconds into examination, attack by the chaos insurgency cuts power to sectors through as per protocol, chamber completely sealed and locked, trapping Dr. inside with SCP-538. Power remains cut off for an additional twenty-three minutes until backup generators are powered up and patched into the power grid. As per protocol, power was not routed to SCP-538's containment cell, but rather to sector containing at the time. Power subsequently routed through to the next highest level priority containment cells. As SCP-538 was sufficiently contained at the time, it was deemed minimum priority. No major containment breaches were reported. Attack repelled quickly and with minimum casualties. Site engineers worked to restore power. Eighteen hours after chaos insurgency attack, power finally reaches SCP-538 containment cell. A sobbing Dr. is escorted from the chamber, claiming he could quote, feel them crawling, end quote, all over him. Dr. undergoes psychological therapy for his new found arachnophobia. Containment protocol updated, Dr. was reassigned. Sum Number SCP-543 Object Class Euclid Special Containment Procedures Access to SCP-543 is restricted to staff with level two clearance. Detailed observation of SCP-543 has thus far been restricted to Class D personnel. Description SCP-543 is a collection of four-hour VHS videotapes from various manufacturers. Total length of tape is eight hours. All tapes viewed so far appear to be noise or snow recorded from an empty analog television channel. However, those who watch the tapes for long enough are able to discern an image. See Addenda 543-1 and 543-2. Discovery SCP-543 was found in a single room apartment in the F*** building in F***. The room contained a 38.1 centimeter analog television set with rabbit ears set top antenna. Television was tuned to the gap between local stations and F***. Antenna was attached to a tangle of wires that filled the entire room from floor to ceiling, except for a small area in front of the television. This SCP-543 was stacked along the walls and strewn on the floor. In front of the television was the apartment's tenant. Adult male, deceased, head was buried in the television. He had rammed it through the glass screen himself and died of electrocution, signs of extreme malnutrition. Evidently, after filling the room with wires, he was unable or unwilling to remove any, confining himself to a smaller and smaller space, body surrounded by food wrappers and excrement. Body was discovered by building's landlord after continued non-payment of rent. Police dismantled antenna structure to retrieve the body. Examination of crime scene photos and investigation of f***'s behavior show the wires were placed in four stages over the past couple of days before his death. Stage one, coat hangers attached to antenna with scotch tape, 12 hours of VHS tape. Stage two, reel of six-gauge wire and duct tape purchased from local hardware store, seven hours of tape. Stage three, waste wire scavenged from construction sites, and had lost his job at work due to persistent absenteeism. Three hours of tape. Stage four, apartment ransacked. Springs removed from mattress, appliances dismantled for wiring, exits blocked. One tape unlabeled, found in the VCR by police. Addendum 543-1, summary of SCP-543 observation logs. Personnel D671 was given a random selection of tapes, 65 hours in total, viewed in chronological order with VCR and television of the same model as rights. Steel mesh fitted over screen as a precaution. In tapes made during stage one, D671 identified the image's unremarkable TV noise. Later, she claimed to discern an image and requested that it be tuned in. In stage two tapes, instead of a two-dimensional wall of snow, D671 claimed to see a vast three-dimensional space. She stressed the size of the space, bigger than anything you've seen, bigger than anything ever. Beginning of claustrophobic tendencies. D671 reported stage three tapes as clearer and sharper. She now claimed to see things occupying the immense space. Whether they were animate or indeed whether they were entities or events is unclear. Once again, she emphasized their size, becoming agitated when interviewers, quote, did not get it, end quote. Severe claustrophobia, anxiety, night terrors. After viewing 12 minutes of the final unlabeled tape, D671 attempted to remove the mesh over the screen, stripping three fingernails and breaking her nose before being restrained. Currently isolated in four-point restraints. Cooperates with interviewers, but answers are repetitive. See Addendum 543-2. Addendum 543-2, partial transcript of interview with D671, 1015 hours. Date expunged. Doctor, why did you do it? D671, because here isn't big enough, not when you've seen there. Doctor, big enough for what? D671, pause. Why do you think the TV can see them? Doctor, silence. D671, because they're everywhere. They're all through us. And we're not big enough. And it hurts. Item number, SCP-544, Object Class, Euclid. Class updated after event 544-423-245, by order of 05, special containment procedures. When not in use, SCP-544 is to be kept in a standard 1 meter by 1 meter by 1 meter locked storage container. When in use, the bearer of SCP-544 is to be under visual and auditory surveillance at all times. In the event that SCP-544 is to be removed from a bearer, it is to be only done by legally deaf staff in Auditory Safe Room number 524264. Description, SCP-544 is a 30 centimeter tall handheld radio microphone made of polished metal and black plastic. There's no evidence of wires or electrical plugs of any kind on the object. The object's surface reveals significant but superficial damage, presumably from everyday use. When jostled, the sound of a non-metallic object can be heard inside the device. Requests to disassemble SCP-544 to identify this object have been denied. When grasped by the neck of the microphone, the bearer will gain a subtle but significant compulsion to keep SCP-544 in his or her possession at all times. This compulsion begins as a simple dislike for the idea of letting go of SCP-544, but inevitably culminates in a desire to keep SCP-544 in a pocket or other carrying method at all times. Attempts to retrieve SCP-544 when the bearer is asleep have generally resulted in separation events. See below. After two days of baring SCP-544, it will begin to speak for its bearer, through methods unknown. The sound SCP-544 makes is identical to the bearer's original voice, and the bearer does not seem to notice that this voice replacement is occurring until explained. As time passes, more and more of the subject's speech is replaced by SCP-544, and the vocal tone of SCP-544 becomes much more electronic, with a comical and jovial tone. Within two weeks, the bearer is completely voiced by SCP-544. Attempts to remove SCP-544 from the bearer's possession result in what has been dubbed a separation event. SCP-544 will produce a screeching tone in order to incapacitate those that wish to gain SCP-544. The decibel levels of separation events have ranged from 140 to 150 decibels, causing significant discomfort and pain. The original bearer of SCP-544 is somewhat affected, but to a severely lesser degree. Incapacitating the bearer before attempting to acquire SCP-544 causes the same separation event. After the event, its original bearer recovers normally, with the exception of being unable to speak at all. Autopsy of bearer's brains revealed near-complete atrophy of posterior inferior frontal gyrus section, commonly known as Broca's area. Because of the risk to personnel nearby when separation events occur, 05 has ordered that all operations done to retrieve SCP-544 are to be done in auditory safe rooms, ASRs, and specifically designed to mitigate and reduce sound-related issues. Addendum 1. Interview with SCP-544-Bearing Subject. Interview Date 04-12-2011 Interviewer Researcher Subject D-7899 Current amount of time subject has borne SCP-544. One week, two days. Please note, by this time, a significant percentage of D-7899's vocalizations come from SCP-544. In the interest of clarity, sections in which SCP-544 is speaking will be written like this, in keeping with SCP-544's higher electronic voice. As is standard with this effect upon its bearers, D-7899 does not notice, or does not seem to care, when he stops using his mouth to stop in the middle of a sentence. Researcher And how are we today, 7-899? I see you've taken to stuffing SCP-544 into your pocket. D-7899. Yes, it was getting a bit annoying having to hold this thing in my hands. Plus, it fits pretty well, don't you think? Researcher True But, have you considered returning it to us? What are you using it for? D-7899. Shrugs. Nah. Why would I want to give this up? I like it. Believe it or not, most of the other D-class folks think I'm higher up on the food chain because I've got this thing. Stupid gang-banging racial insults. They think owning an old-time radio microphone is some version of a gang sign. Would you believe that they occasionally try to take the expletive thing when I'm sleeping? Expletiving racial insults. Have they forgotten that they're in friggin' jail? This isn't Detroit for God's sake. Researcher, let's refrain from racial insults 7-899 and mind your tone. You're in jail with them too. Tell me more about what happens when they try to take it from you. D-7899. Fine, fine, sorry about the cursor. Anyways, I'm a light sleeper, so the minute I feel their dirty little mitts unzipping my pocket, I'm awake. Then the metal noise starts up and they start clutching their heads like it's a bullhorn. They back off and I go back to sleep. Researcher, metal noise? D-7899. You know, that noise it makes when someone tries to take it. You guys installed it, right, so that nobody steals it from me? What was that stupid whore in those Africans-plated soccer games so much that everyone hated? Um, like that, but more synthetic. A lot quieter too. I have to give you boys credit. It's a perfect stop touching my expletive alarm sound. Winces. Sorry, sorry, I know. Don't swear. Force of habit. Ah, yes, that metal noise. We made that noise for military discouragement operations. What would you say if I told you that you keep alternating between speaking with your voice and that microphone speaking for you? D-7899. I'd laugh at you because you guys tried that trick a few days after you gave me this thing. You guys told me to randomly talk while looking into what you guys said was a mirror. Of course, it wasn't a mirror. Since I stopped talking a few times and the does air quotes, reflection, while I kept talking freaked me out a bit. But then I realized you guys just recorded me standing somewhere doing nothing and used that fancy CGI expletive to make it look like I wasn't talking a few words. Nice try, doc. Addendum 2, Event 544 Alpha. On 05-24-2014, at 3.42am, the current bearer of SCP-544, D-4232-45, was asleep in his bunk. While undisturbed and remaining asleep, SCP-544 began to speak seemingly random phrases. It was initially assumed that D-4232-45 was simply talking in his sleep until SCP-544 began speaking things which could not have possibly been dream-based. Later bearers of SCP-544 repeated many of the following lines in their sleep. For a full listing, please see file 544.fulllog.353. I was slumbering, I was waking, flames, fire, burning, I slumbered again. There is no- there is no- there is no barrier. The slab groans. I groaned to match. We rise together, when, when, when. I dreamed until the dawn, but then it was not dawn. It was false. Dawn that was not a dawn. Dreams turned to dust. The number was expunged. The number is expunged. No, not time. Not yet. No. Wait and dream. Wait and dream. Event 544-Alpha in later similar situations has caused the Foundation to re-evaluate SCP-544's nature. It is currently not understood how SCP-544, or its multiple bearers, have a knowledge of SCP-544, much less how SCP-544 has anything in common with SCP-544. More startling is 544's mentioning of the specific latitude-longitude of Foundation overwatch. In response to event 544-423245, SCP-544 has been upgraded to Euclid status. Addendum 2. SCP-544-Beta on 09-15-2014 at 4.01 am, the current bearer of SCP-544, D-64-34-9, was seen walking around the medical cell he had been contained in due to a common illness. Conversation with D-64-34-9, speaking through SCP-544, began shortly thereafter. To date, there have been rapid attempts to forcibly recreate the events of 544-Beta with no success. Doctor, up and about 6434-9, feeling better? D-64-34-9, long pause, buried. Doctor, excuse me? D-64-34-9, unintelligible. Doctor, please repeat yourself. D-64-34-9, long pauses between words begin here and continue throughout the conversation. Perversion, corruption of the method. I am trod under those who exist to serve me. Doctor, realizes he's not talking with D-64-34-9. What method are you speaking of? Does the person I'm talking to exist to serve you? D-64-34-9, touch the stone, become my voice, speak my truths and my rules to the people. I warned them. Popocata pedal was the warning, warning of corruption, arrival, destruction. Note, Popocata pedal is a volcano located in Mexico. Doctor, what happened? D-64-34-9, extremely long pause. My voice was not protected. Pretenders to my glory usurped me, shattered, disregarded. I slept. Doctor, and what caused you to wake up? Do you remember when? D-64-34-9, shakes head, shard of me. Not enough, the cerdos, treated like unknown, translations suggest bearer of wooden collar. Blasphemy, touch the stone, become my voice, touch the stone, spoke for them. Rapidly, alternating between Nahuatl, Spanish and English. Arrogance, arrogance, arrogance, arrogance, arrogance. At this point, D-64-34-9 awoke, presumably by the sound of SCP-544. He turns to face Doctor, who startles him. D-64-34-9, Jesus wept, Doctor. Do you get your jollies off watching patients get up to take a piss? Doctor, none of your business, D. Good night. Item number, SCP-546, Object Class, Safe. Special Containment Procedures. SCP-546 is to be contained in a secured lock box. This is restricted only to level 2 research staff directly assigned to SCP-546. A full log of all used sheets, date used, inscribed data, and subject exposed is to be kept along with SCP item. At no point should SCP-546 or any of the sheets leave the quarantine room. Description. SCP-546 consists of a single pad of spiral-bound lined brand of note paper. SCP-546 measures 15 cm by 23 cm, and currently consists of 57 sheets out of the original 60. Besides its anomalous effects, the item has no other outstanding characteristics. When a subject inscribes on SCP-546 with any writing instrument, they begin to experience a cognitive breakdown. Any inscribed word or phrase will begin to interject itself into the subject's speech and writing. The frequency of the phrase will continue to rise over the course of time. After approximately 24 hours, the subject is unable to write and speak anything else other than the phrase they had written down. Removal of sheets does not affect the properties of the item. Although there is serious mental distress from losing the ability to communicate with others, affected subjects have been shown to be able to continue living on with their new disability. Cognitive abilities are not directly affected, and subjects are able to nod and shake their heads in response to simple yes-and-no questions. Experiment log. Subject. D-Class. 546-39-31. Sheet. 55. Date. 02-12. Phrase. South Dixie Drive. Subject 546-39-31 was then asked to read from the Canterbury Tales out loud. About 30 minutes into the novel, the subject interjected the phrase South Dixie Drive directly into her dialogue. She was assured that this would be normal and asked to continue. The phrase came up again at the 45-minute mark. By this time, subject 546-39-31 refused to keep reading and asked to see a doctor. Frequency continued to escalate over the next 14 hours when the subject was sedated due to a violent outburst at an assistant. When the subject woke up 8 hours later, her vocabulary consisted entirely of the phrase South Dixie Drive. Subject. D-Class. 546-39-31. Repeat subject. Sheet. 55. Date. 02-15. Phrase. The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dogs. Subject 546-39-31 was instructed that writing the above phrase on SCP-546 would cure her current condition. Subject was unable to write down the phrase. Subject. D-Class. 546-38-80. Sheet. 55. Date. 03-02. Phrase. Bread. Eggs. Milk. Cheese. Subject 546-38-80 is a Hispanic male whose primary language was Spanish. After writing down the test phrase, the subject was asked to sing the words to the Spanish version of Happy Birthday out loud until asked to stop. The first instance of the phrase occurred in English after approximately 25 minutes. The subject was calmed down and then asked to continue singing the song, except this time in English. This time the phrase did not occur until after two hours had passed. A written test phase later did not produce the same anomaly. Subject. D-Class. 546-39-50. Sheet. 55. Date. 03-04. Phrase. 555-1234. Subject 546-39-50 is a deaf individual who lost his hearing a few years before arriving at the foundation. Low written text follows the same pattern as above. His ability to sign was never affected. After several weeks of monitoring 546-39-50, it was determined that his ability to use sign language was unaffected by SCP-546. Sign language classes are being provided to subjects 546-39-31 and 546-38-80 to further study the effect of SCP-546. Dr. R- Lesson complete. To continue with your orientation training, subscribe to SCP Orientation right now and make sure you don't miss any of our upcoming videos.