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SCP-4550

An Operational Foundation Site

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WARNING: THE FOLLOWING FILE IS LEVEL 3/4550 CLASSIFIED


ANY ATTEMPT TO ACCESS THIS FILE WITHOUT LEVEL 3/4550 AUTHORIZATION WILL BE LOGGED AND WILL LEAD TO IMMEDIATE DISCIPLINARY ACTION.

Main Facility

Item #: SCP-4550

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Personnel working with SCP-4550 are specialised cognitohazard containment teams, each headed by Level 4 personnel. Said containment teams are required to take part in a re-evaluation course every six months.

Electronic equipment/communication devices are not permitted within 50 metres of SCP-4550's outer containment zone outside of controlled exploration. The remains of personnel presumed MIA/KIA are not to be retrieved, even if the above procedures are followed. Any electronic device believed to be carrying SCP-4550's effects is to be immediately incinerated or otherwise destroyed.

MTF Eta-10 ("See No Evil") are to maintain one primary and three backup emergency telegram communication lines, connected to the outer containment zone.

Since initial discovery, all exploration and extraction of SCP-4550-A is to be performed by remotely controlled drones.

Description: Currently, the accepted understanding of SCP-4550-2 indicates that it is a type of electronic cognitohazard or memetic phenomenon. SCP-4550-2 is capable of propagating through electronic equipment, and is presumed to trigger immediately when visually observed.

SCP-4550-1 is an unregistered but fully operational Foundation Site located close to [REDACTED], USA, which either houses or is the source of SCP-4550-2. No records or witness accounts of this Site have been found. However, security codes from Foundation personnel are able to unlock doors and the Foundation seal is present on the structures, systems and materials within the facility. Whether SCP-4550-2 is directly connected to SCP-4550-1 itself or an infohazardous object inside is unknown.

Any person, regardless of prior Foundation employment, exposed to SCP-4550-2 becomes convinced that they are employed at SCP-4550-1 and will presumably lose memory of their prior life. Moreover, those exposed (designated hereafter as SCP-4550-A) will treat SCP-4550-1 as the only legitimate Foundation Site and assume that other Foundation establishments are faux. So far, all attempts at communication have been met with hostility.

84% of captured SCP-4550-A were in possession of Foundation IDs that were tested and confirmed to be authentic. Research into the personnel archive of global Foundation personnel records indicate the possibility that SCP-4550 somehow tampers with records as well as memories.

SCP-4550 received its classification following a hostile dialogue between the Foundation Intelligence Department and the Global Occult Coalition; the GOC had lost an intelligence team to SCP-4550 and summarily interpreted it as a hostile action on the Foundation's part. Shortly afterwards, SCP-4550 received its classification.

The absence of SCP-4550-1 (marked Site-█ on recovered IDs) in digital archives suggest anomalous tampering, as records are spread around globally and fractured in the case of foul play. Investigation by Rho-9 ("Technical Support") and Foundation archivists uncovered that information about the former Site-█ is present in outdated paper records. According to said archives, Site-█ was decommissioned and demolished in 1958 after an outbreak of multiple SCPs destroyed the majority of the structure. No information prior to and after this incident has been recovered.

Addendum A
Exploration

Performed exploration, while resulting in loss of personnel, provides additional insight in the spread of SCP-4550-2

- Close

NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION

The following material has been confirmed clear of any known cognitohazardous material. However, personnel diagnosed to be sensitive to cognitohazards are required to consult their available Containment Specialists to be granted permission to view this document.

— Containment Specialist Stevens, RAISA

SCP-4550-1, capture by drone

Exploration Video Log Transcript

Date: 07/02/2016

Exploration Team: Remote Exploration Team Tau-1 (DETT-1)

Subject: SCP-4550

Team Lead: Operator Simon Belle

Team Members: Assistant Operator Juan Sanchez


[BEGIN LOG]
Command: Are we ready for deployment?

Drone operator: Yeah, we have been for two hours. We need to infiltrate one of our own Sites, security and all. This isn't like exploring some old house or abandoned school building. We don't have any blueprints, but they hope the ventilation system will take the clearance codes we got from the people that Larry brought back.

C: Understood. You are cleared to launch.

D: Copy that. Sanchez, wake the drone up. We deploy 200 metres above the target. Focus on the blind spot between the air duct and the western wall.

A: The blind spot that we presume is a blind spot? You got it.

Drone deploys from 200 metres above SCP-4550 from a weather balloon. Camera feed activates and displays SCP-4550's rooftop. For the next 30 seconds, the drone steadily lowers the altitude to 63 meters. No activity outside of SCP-4550.

C: Anything?

D: Nope. What would we do if we thought a drone was spying on us?

C: Wait until it lowers below 50 metres and destroy it remotely.

D: I was afraid you'd say that.

Drone dives to 55 meters before hovering in place.

D: So… we know this can spread through the video feed? The effect, I mean?

C: That has been confirmed.

D: So in other words-

C: Do not get caught.

D: Understood. Lower her down, Sanchez. Nice and easy.

Drone continues descend. Target air duct is now clearly visible through camera feed. The drone hovers 2 metres above the target and attempts to remotely activate maintenance shaft.

D: Isn't this going to trip an alarm or something?

C: Correct. However, as long as the codes are valid, it will be viewed as routine maintenance. From SCP-4550-A instances, we confirmed that maintenance is scheduled to be performed today.

D: We got through.

Camera feed shows target airduct opening in its entirety. Drone lands and switches to driving mode.

C: We have 30 minutes until the actual maintenance crew arrives.

D: Copy that. I'm trusting you, chief. [Inhales and exhales audibly] Don't get us brainwashed okay? I don't pull off the tinfoil hat look well.

Drone enters SCP-4550's air vent system. Movement is minimal to reduce noise and the on-board flashlight is activated. The camera system flickers occasionally. Microphone picks up muffled speech from adjoining rooms, as well as unidentified vocalisation similar to animal snarls.

D: Do we have tabs on what they're actually containing here?

C: Unconfirmed hypothesis. The paper archives show multiple SCPs that were never recovered from the outbreak of 1958. It stands to reason that they are contained here.

D: Where do they even get the money to keep this going?

C: Unknown.

D: Right. We're coming up to a lightsource here.

C: Make sure to deactivate your own.

D: This ain't my first rodeo, captain.

Drone arrives in a supply duct. Visual feed show what appears to be a cafeteria. Multiple SCP-4550-A are present.

D: Hm…

C: Status.

D: I don't know if this means anything, but they are dressed weird. The girls are wearing skirts all the way to the floor and the guys look like the Apollo 13 control crew.

C: Clarify.

A: He means like, they all wear old-timey suits. Fourties or fifties. Did the Site work with objects that screwed with time?

C: Unknown.

D: Yeah, see that Sanchez? Look at that phone, it's a rotary phone. They must either be hipsters or there is something wrong here.

D: What the… Sanchez? Come look at this.

C: Status.

D: It's not… [a chair is being moved, presumably to give operator Sanchez a clear view of the feed] Sanchez, isn't that…

Sanchez: She seems so familiar.

C: Repeat, status.

D: We… we're not sure. There's someone here that's… deja vu, you know?

C: No, I don't. Operator Belle, deactivate the drone. Do not look directly at the video feed. I repeat, do no-

D: Sanchez, look! That's Milly! What [PAUSE] what the fuck am I doing? Sanchez? Why are we…

A: Is this some kind of trick? Why are we spying on our own people? Who the fuck is this?

C: This is command, snap out of it! Abort the mission, we can still-

[Audio feed registers sound of either the drone operator or assistant (now SCP-4550-A-1 and SCP-4550-A-2) attempting to exit the observation booth, which is locked from the outside in case of cognitohazard exposure.]

C: Lose this channel.

Audio connection is terminated.

C: [Sighs] God damn it. Have ETA-10 put those two in containment. 4550-A personnel designation. Turn the log off. We're done.

[END LOG]

Addendum B
Blackbox data

Update: While the raid on SCP-4550 has resulted in the loss of the entirety of the raid squadron, an encrypted signal was broadcast from the personal blackbox of agent ███████

- Close

AUDIO LOG


Capture sent to command 3 minutes before first audio entry.

DATE: [23/12/20██/14:00/Exploration Log 12]

NOTE: [Name: Agent Gabriel Romero] [Agent number: 2738-9322 (does not match personnel record)]


[BEGIN LOG]

TIME: [14:02]

I think I went too far ahead from the group. The door from… I think this is a broom closet - it closed on me. And erm… a good ten minutes of exploring this tiny space has shown no crack, no vents, and no tools I can use to somehow open the door. I'm not even sure I want to.

Let the record show, should this be found, that I did try banging on the door, but the sound was muffled on both sides and I don’t believe that they heard me. I can't get a hold of Perez or Norton - I haven’t heard anyone else for a while now, either. So, I flipped over the Foundation’s Standardised Exploration Form (EF1) and I erm, started writing. There is a dim motion-activated light on the wall; I can just about see. I don’t think we have an insider record yet of what happens here, when it happens here, how it happens here… Not at my clearance level anyway - so maybe my mission isn’t a total loss if I record myself slowly… becoming not myself.

TIME: [14:13]

They say, much like a motorcycle accident, it isn’t a matter of if you have an accident with an anomalous item, but when. I guess my number came up, and it was my own fault,

Everything seems so very normal here. Even though I am definitely trapped and well-know what happens to Agents who become MIA here. I mean, it’s far from the most unnerving place I could be. It's almost more unnerving being so dull. I more expected to be taken down by some otherworldly horror, but I will forever be a cautionary tale for new recruits, I think. One of those vids they show the newbies. ''Never scout ahead alone, greenies. Don't be an idiot like Gabriel, whoever that was.''

I feel normal, too. Dumb. Embarrassed. But normal. Maybe the paperwork was right when they told of uncertainty about how this place works – the rest of the force could be along any second and free me, or I could be here for a while and… die of starvation, whilst fully aware of how cocky I was. My watch says it’s ten past two now. It’s worthwhile me devoting some more time trying to figure out if there’s a way out of here.

TIME: [14:30]

I threw the watch across the room. It was mocking me. I close my eyes, and I try to picture people. But the images are weird, their faces blurred, and their bodies are twisted, like they're broken. They are…not what I know they should be. Sometimes, I can see their faces, and they have disappointment on them. I try to make myself remember things. Who I am, what my name is, what happens to make me come here, why I even wanted to join the Foundation in the first damn place – anything to check I’m not forgetting, not yet.

Researchers would about give their left arms to figure out how this place works, but I’m the one trapped in the middle of it. Dumb reason or not, I doubt any of them would care about the fact I’m here. It's bitterly unfair that, at the end of their workday, they can go home. To the family they remember, and I’ll still be here, and I won’t be me. Wish I started a family. Did I?

I thought earlier I heard voices, but maybe it’s the isolation playing tricks on me – it’s not been that long, I don’t think, but it’s amazing how dark your own mind can become without the existence of other people. I don’t mean dark-morbid, I mean bits of my brain feel like they’re turning themselves off. The lights are on, but nobody’s home. Maybe that’s less isolation, and more of a symptom. I don't know what my last name is.

TIME: [15:54]

I try to think about what I’ll miss the most, then I’ll forget what it is, then I’ll have to start all over again. I think - I think of something different each time, but I couldn’t really tell you for sure. Sucks to be you, Researchers – turns out, when someone’s losing their mind, they’re not exactly a reliable witness. I don't remember why I'm talking into this box. It makes me feel better though

It’s slowly catching up to me that I think I can only remember things that happened in the last year. The last month. The last week. I think I remember a baby, but then its face disappears, and it’s replaced by one of a rabbit. I think I remember long hair tickling my nose whilst in a loving embrace, but then the other person disappears and I’m hugging the air. I think I remember burnt rice (blue?) and anger, softened at the corners by a smile, but then he’s dead on the ground, and I think that’s a memory that hasn’t happened yet, which I guess makes it not a memory at all.

Either way, I know I’m steadily losing me.

Maybe if I flip over the form and read the notes there, I’ll be able at least to remember how I came to be in this mess. But I’m scared to, because these notes have a strange familiarity to them. They feel like Déjà vu. What if changing the paper somehow removes every memory from my mind? I keep checking back on myself and I’m dismayed to realise I think I’ve forgotten even more, if that makes sense. I think I’ve forgotten… I'm writing everything I know on here.

TIME: [16:30]

[Sounds of a pencil on paper] You work for the Foundation, the funding…no light, they live in the light so we die in the dark. Monsters and demons and teacups and prying eyes peering through a blood-red sky. Breathing, living expansive houses that sing on the last day-

Focus, Gabriel! You work for the… you work… God damn it.

TIME: [16:42]

Have I forgotten now?

Yes? No? Maybe?

Tall-man-smell-of-tobacco-blood-salt

Try to picture his face and it’s nothing.

Try to collect my thoughts into a neat little bundle and they scatter like scared animals.

Try to remember this is for the Greater Good and I feel sick.

Please, for the love of everything, let me

R E M E M B E R

Him.

TIME: [17:02]

You don't work here. Your name is Gabriel and… you work with someone called… Gabriel. But he doesn't work here. I don't either. No wait, I'm Gabriel. I'm hungry. I can't remember when I last ate. I want to go home. Why don't I know anything? There's something bad outside. I think.

TIME: [17:32]

The next I know, I’m sitting in this room. Muffled shouting is outside. A clipboard is on my lap. A standardised form. EF1 stands boldly in one corner alongside a symbol. Yes/no/maybe questions. Gabriel Romero? That name sits awkwardly with me. But an Agent? Yes/no/maybe I’m an Agent. I stand, and wait to be greeted by the blur of voices outside.

TIME: [17:50]

Hey Belle! Let me out, damn it! It's not funny the first time, it's not funny the third either!

[Microphone picks up the sound of an automatic door sliding open]

Jesus, that's bright. Is this one of your pranks again, Bel- Oh, it's you.

[Unknown]: Erm, Romero? Why are you in a closet? I thought you came out of that years ago.

You're a fucking comedian. Where's Belle? I'm pretty sure he locked me in here. I want to congratulate him on his hilarious joke.


[END LOG]

Addendum C
Termination

The feasibility of termination or otherwise neutralising SCP-4550 is currently under investigation. Multiple proposals are currently heavily debated.

Notice: Clearance level 4550/4 or higher are required to view this addendum. Please submit your username and password below.

ID

e91e91f6411b0a64abad7e0773f45d13_1779108479

PASSWORD

c7f246d6d054a43bb69c03528c34317c_1779108479

Logout

Access granted. Your session has been logged.

PROPOSED PROTOCOLS

Tau (''Live and let live'')

The Foundation will keep monitoring SCP-4550 indefinitely, only interfering when SCP-4550 poses a clear threat to the secrecy of the Foundation or anomalous objects. No other actions, hostile or otherwise, will be taken without prior provocation.

Theta (''Asphyxiate'')

SCP-4550 will be contained permanently by physically obstructing entry or exit by any means. This will result in the termination of all SCP-4550-A instances and might neutralise the anomaly. However, this proposal poses a significant risk of anomalous objects or entities breaching containment and may result in a significant loss of life and resources should the containment measures be inadequate.

Omega (''Hammer'')

Physical destruction of SCP-4550 in its entirety through weapons of mass destruction. Impractical to execute without alerting the general populace but considered to have a higher chance of neutralising SCP-4550 and the anomalies contained within permanently.