Huxley: I never hurt you, Conway. I could’ve, but I didn’t. Doesn’t that make me a good person? Can’t you leave me alone?
Item#: 8405
Level4
Containment Class:
safe
Secondary Class:
uncontained
Disruption Class:
vlam
Risk Class:
warning
Special Containment Procedures: Area-344 has been established around SCP-8405 for consistent long-term monitoring. In the event of any apparent change in readings, Area-344 is to contact the nearest available Foundation site for backup.
Update 7/09/25: Following the findings of recovery personnel assigned to investigate the events leading up to Area-344's dysfunction, SCP-8405-1 is known to be hostile and uncontained. SCP-8405-1 is a medium-priority termination target due to its role in the termination of all personnel at Area-344, save for itself. Contact should only be made by people with no relationship whatsoever to SCP-8405-1. Satellite footage over Kvitoya, Svalbard is to be constantly monitored for sightings of SCP-8405-1; additionally, a security team has been assigned to recovery personnel in the event that SCP-8405-1 attempts to return to Area-344.
A picture of SCP-8405, taken by a member of Area-344 staff.
Description: SCP-8405 refers to an anomalous oil-like liquid contained in a frozen lake approximately 12m in diameter (depth unknown) located on Kvitoya, Svalbard. Ice core samples taken from the ice layer covering the lake indicate that it has remained frozen for at least three millennia.
SCP-8405 was first discovered in 2017, when a Greenlandic tourist, walking over the lake while on a trip to Kvitoya, accidentally broke through the ice layer covering SCP-8405 and came into contact with a small amount of liquid. Upon her return, she immediately sought medical attention, stating that she was hearing voices and that her hands were experiencing a burning sensation. Foundation surveillance measures reported that this effect ceased after some time. Following this event, unauthorized travel to Kvitoya was forbidden, and Area-344 was built to further study SCP-8405.
Without direct contact, the effects of SCP-8405 appear to be negligible. When standing directly on the lake, personnel report mild headaches, as well as drowsiness and forgetfulness, possibly indicative of memetic and telepathic properties. SCP-8405 often ripples in reaction to human proximity, although it is unclear if this is evidence of consciousness.
SCP-8405-1 is a white male human, 22 years old, possessing a form of reverse empathic psychometry derived from SCP-8405’s influence. SCP-8405-1 is believed to be or have previously been Xavier Conway, a junior researcher stationed at the isolated, now-defunct Area-344.
Addendum 8405-1-30925
The following audio log was recovered from Area-344 secure servers by recovery personnel. Due to severe fire damage done to site servers, only a few files were recoverable.
File ID: Audio Log 64-83-3
<BEGIN LOG>
Director Alistair Huxley: Oh, that kid? I know the one you mean. He's in here a lot.
Huxley: Never seems to take no for an answer. (pause) I- I feel bad, I really do. But what can you do in that sort of situation?
On 3/09/2025, 2:00AM EST, Junior Researcher Xavier Conway, hereafter referred to as SCP-8405-1, exited Area-344 in apparent psychological distress. External cameras were partially obscured due to a severe snowstorm passing through the area; however, upon SCP-8405-1’s return six hours later, it appeared covered in an oil-like liquid. Curiously, it did not display any signs of hypothermia, and multiple accidental chemical burns and injuries it had previously acquired at the site were absent, despite some having been recently sustained. Instead of returning to its scheduled duties, SCP-8405-1 retreated to its quarters, where it remained for thirteen hours. During this period, Dr. Patterson, the site’s mandated psychologist, attempted to enter SCP-8405-1’s quarters but was unsuccessful.
Shortly afterwards, SCP-8405-1 submitted a third official transfer request to Director Alistair Huxley. The request was immediately denied. The following email exchange was found on SCP-8405-1’s personal laptop.
From:
To:
CC:
Subject:
xavier.conway@scip.net
alistair.huxley@scip.net
none
Denial of transfer request
Director Huxley,
Why do you keep denying my transfers? I’ve been in you’re office dozens of times this year, every time you told me they were just getting used to me, that it would get better, and it hasn’t. I thought you were onmy side. I can't be here anymore. I can't sleep, I see them behind my eyelids, they won't leave me alone. They steal my things, blame me for mistakes they made, Dr Mathers is deleting all my work and she's messing with my experiments, I keep having accidents but I know I know they're not accidental. they think it's funny they thinkYou said if it was still bad I could give up and transferr out. They hate me. I want to do that, I want to leave, please let me leave please
Xavier Conway
Junior Researcher, Area-344
Secure. Contain. Protect.
From:
To:
CC:
Subject:
alistair.huxley@scip.net
xavier.conway@scip.net
none
Re:Denial of transfer request
Mr. Conway, I was under the assumption we’d already dealt with this. I acknowledge your concerns, but your accusations against your coworkers are entirely unfounded and extremely unprofessional. I must say that I expected better from you. If this conduct continues, I will have to authorise disciplinary action in the form of paycheck deductions.
Please understand that a site is only as strong as its weakest link, and currently, this appears to be you. I have heard from Dr. Mathers that your work performance over the past few weeks has been extremely poor; I expect this to increase. Our personal problems should not inhibit us from contributing to the continued operation of this site. Additionally, your email contains multiple spelling and grammar mistakes; perhaps you should proofread your emails before sending them in future.
Kind regards,
Alistair Huxley
Director, Area-344
Secure. Contain. Protect.
Addendum 8405-1-30925-2
<A.L 64-83-3 CONT.>
Huxley: Sometimes you wonder what the world's come to. When I was just starting out at the Foundation, this kind of thing was completely normal. Friendly workplace banter, you know? Kids these days. It's a crying shame, if you ask me.
(An unidentified voice asks a question. The words are too garbled to understand.)
Huxley: Yes. Yes, I'm aware of the… incident. When you put it that way, it makes it seem so much more severe than it really was. (chuckles) Joseph is a very… physical person, but he’s a good man. Works hard. I’m sure it was all in good fun.
At 15:00PM EST, SCP-8405-1 left its quarters and entered the staff breakroom, where it encountered Senior Technician Joseph Hart. Security camera footage of the subsequent incident appeared to have been clumsily scrubbed, but a fragment was recovered (shown below).
<BEGIN LOG>
(SCP-8405-1 kneels on the tiled floor of the breakroom kitchenette in front of Hart’s body. Spilled, steaming coffee stains the front of its shirt; it does not seem to feel any pain. It stares at its hands, which are smoking slightly. Hart’s eyes are wide. His expression is fixed in abject fear.)
SCP-8405-1: Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.
SCP-8405-1: I don’t- what did I do? I wanted you to get off me. You were touching me, and I- oh, God. I couldn’t. Not again.
SCP-8405-1: It told me you would feel what I felt. That you would understand. I didn't…
(It sobs.)
SCP-8405-1: What did I do?
<END LOG>
SCP-8405-1 fled the scene before Dr. Sharon Mathers, the site’s cryptozoologist, discovered Hart. At the time, his death was not treated as suspicious, as his habit of excessive alcohol consumption was a subject of humorous discussion among site staff. His body was placed in cold storage to be taken to the nearest site for disposal during the next bi-annual supply shipment. His duties were given to Head Containment Engineer Tate McPherson.
Addendum 8405-1-50925
On the morning of 5/09/25, the bodies of Dr. Mathers and Containment Engineer McPherson were discovered in the site’s kitchen. Both bodies showed signs of confrontation; McPherson was clutching a bloodied kitchen knife at the time of his death. However, neither sustained any physical wounds. Closer inspection of the bodies by Security Officer Lieutenant Natalie Santos determined that both displayed hand-shaped burn marks on their temples. Upon autopsy, the cause of death was found to be identical. Senior Technician Hart’s body was retrieved from cold storage at Director Huxley’s request, whereupon the same marks were discovered.
Following these findings, Director Huxley sent out an immediate distress call, and Area-344 went into internal lockdown.
<A.L 64-83-3 CONT.>
Huxley: You have to understand here. I don't know why you're making this out to be something so harmful. I follow Foundation protocol; I don't allow that sort of thing at my site. Don't we know each other better than that, Mike?
Dr. Michael Patterson: From what I've seen, this is having a serious effect on Conway. He hasn’t spoken to me in our sessions for almost three weeks now.
Huxley: Oh, please. You don't really believe that. He's fishing for attention.
Patterson: Al, I've seen the way some of the staff treat him. Most of them, actually. It seems to have begun as some sort of hazing, but it's become like a sick hobby around the site. All of them just egging each other on. Surely you can't let this continue.
Huxley: Mike, come on. (laughs) He's our youngest staff member; he needs to learn his place. Builds character, I say. If I'd tried to quit my first assignment, I would never have got anywhere.
Patterson: From what he told me, he's- he's being psychologically tortured. Before he stopped talking to me, he said that he was always paranoid, jumpy, trying to figure out what they'd do to him next. He had these bags under his eyes- I've never seen someone so young with that kind of look to him. I mentioned Hart once, and he just went blank.
Huxley: Ah, he's being dramatic. Have you considered that maybe this place is getting to him? We’ve all been here for a long time, Mike. It’s been hard on all of us, studying something that never changes in an environment like this. You know that- it's why you’re here.
(Huxley exhales.)
Huxley: We all had dreams, Mike. It's hard to forget those sorts of things. We’ve all had to adapt in our own ways. Conway will learn to get along with them sooner or later, when he loses that frightened-rabbit mindset of his.
Patterson: I just- I just think there’s something more to it than that.
Huxley: Listen, Mike. Out of everyone at this godforsaken site, you're the only one I've ever been able to stomach a conversation with. I trust your judgement on this. What do you actually think?
(Patterson sighs tiredly.)
Patterson: Well, I… honestly, I shouldn't be telling you this. In truth, I don't know.
(pause)
Patterson: I'm not sure if I believe that the others would go as far as he's describing. But I do think that he's becoming unstable. It is my professional and… personal recommendation that psychological support be given before he declines further.
Huxley: So what are you suggesting? Put him on leave and wait for him to wake up to reality?
Patterson: Al, please. Don't be so harsh on the kid.
Huxley: Look. We're a thousand miles away from any other Foundation site here, Mike. We need the personnel. Sometimes, life is hard. You have to knuckle down and get through it. That's just how things work. Sooner or later he's going to have to realize that.
(Patterson sighs.)
Patterson: I really hope you're right, Al.
<END LOG>
In accordance with lockdown protocols, Lt. Santos was dispatched to patrol the site while it remained in force. However, the recovery team later found both Lt. Santos' and Dr. Patterson’s bodies inside the logistics bay. Forensic examination determined that while passing through the area, Dr. Patterson had heard sounds of a scuffle, and upon investigation, discovered Santos deceased after an encounter with SCP-8405-1. Dr. Patterson attempted to engage SCP-8405-1 in conversation, possibly trying to reason with it, but was finally killed by SCP-8405-1 after a prolonged exchange. Examination also concluded that Dr. Patterson did not try to defend himself.
Following this, SCP-8405-1 proceeded to Director Huxley’s office.
Addendum 8405-1-50925-2
The following video file was recovered from Director Huxley’s personal tablet, thought to be the last recorded footage of any living Area-344 staff.
Accepted
<BEGIN LOG>
(Although the lights in the office are off, Director Alistair Huxley's face is barely visible in the blue light emitting from the tablet. He crouches behind his desk.)
Huxley: (whispering) -on? Is it on? Oh, Christ. Oh, Christ.
(He wipes his forehead down with his coat sleeve. He appears terrified.)
Huxley: It's just me left. Santos is dead. Mike- Mike’s dead, too. He killed them tonight.
Huxley: I thought I should have a- a record. Of what's happened.
Huxley: Oh, fuck.
(The door to Huxley's office opens slowly. Red light from the emergency lighting in the hallway outside pours across the floor.)
(Huxley stands, placing the tablet on the top of his desk. A gun is visible in his trembling hands.)
Huxley: Take one more step and I'll shoot. I'll do it.
SCP-8405-1: I don’t think you will.
Huxley: You don't know that.
(SCP-8405-1 is silent. It appears filthy and malnourished, covered in blood from multiple gashes. Its eyes are wild and hollowed. After a period of tense silence, it speaks up.)
SCP-8405-1: I didn’t want… to come back. Did you know that?
Huxley: I- what?
SCP-8405-1: When I went out that day, in the snowstorm. I heard that hypothermia was a good way to go. Easy. They say you feel warm, at the end. Isn’t that strange? (SCP-8405-1 sniffs.) But it was hard to see, with the- with the snow, you know, and I lost my way, and then the ice broke and I was under. In the water of the lake. Down my throat, into my lungs. Like a tide. It knew me, the lake. Spoke to me, told me- told me it could help. I realized then I didn't want to go. And I was willing to do anything, in that moment. But I didn’t know… I didn’t want it to be like this.
(SCP-8405-1 takes a deep, shuddering breath.)
SCP-8405-1: I don’t know what I am anymore, Director. There was never any blood- no blood, but they screamed anyway, and then it got a little quieter. I left a piece of me in the lake and it filled that space- cold water in my mind, in my hands. My pain was theirs and it was too much, too much. Once I tried cutting my hands off - to stop it, you know - but the lake wouldn't let that happen. It's not- it's not done.
(Huxley curses and pulls the trigger. The gun clicks. He pulls it again. The gun does not fire. Huxley’s face blanches.)
Huxley: (muttering) Shit.
SCP-8405-1: You’re the last one left, Director.
(Huxley stumbles back, his face twisted in fear.)
Huxley: Please, Conway- you can’t, I- There was nothing I could do!
SCP-8405-1: No. No, you run this site. You knew exactly what was happening and you pretended not to see it just because- because you couldn’t face that you might be wrong about the people you thought you knew. Even the lake knows that. (SCP-8405-1’s voice cracks.) You can't say that- you can't say that when you could have saved me!
Huxley: I tried, Conway! I did! It was out of my control, I couldn't make them listen if I tried - this place makes all of us bitter, it makes us someone else. To know that you're an afterthought, a pawn to place and forget, just - exiled to some hellhole, not even worth a real purpose. Just a name and a paycheck. What that does to people, I-
(Huxley pauses, breathing heavily.)
Huxley: You've been here for a year now, you’ve seen it. I did my best to be better than them. I never hurt you, Conway. I could’ve, but I didn’t. Doesn’t that make me a good person? Can’t you leave me alone?
SCP-8405-1: No. It has to end here. The lake- it won’t leave me alone until I'm done. It's fading, the tide- the tide is ebbing. It has to end.
Huxley: You can't do this. You can't.
SCP-8405-1: I'm so tired. I just want it to be over.
(SCP-8405-1 reaches out towards Huxley, who drops the gun. It clatters on the floor. He backs away, but hits the wall.)
Huxley: No. I was better than them. It wasn’t my fault. Please. No!
SCP-8405-1: I’m sorry. Maybe you’ll understand, now.
(Huxley screams. The video distorts.)
<END LOG>