SCP-9870 - Primal Cold

Maybe we should’ve stayed scared.

Item #: SCP-9870

Object Class: Apollyon

Special Containment Procedures: Civilian encounters with SCP-9870 are unavoidable. The Foundation maintains the narrative that the anomaly is a natural weather phenomenon. Any information contradicting this explanation is to be intercepted and suppressed. Public service announcements advise remaining sheltered and adopting appropriate precautions during periods of activity. These have since become routine practice within the Veil.

Personnel assigned to field operations in SCP-9870’s active zones must minimize exposure. Individuals displaying signs of being impacted by SCP-9870 must be evacuated immediately.

Description: SCP-9870 is an environmental anomaly superficially similar to extreme cold. While the precise conditions needed for manifestation are not yet known, it can manifest anywhere on the surface of the Earth once the temperature falls below freezing. After a variable period of time, SCP-9870 manifestations dissipate spontaneously. No consistent conditions causing these dissipations have yet been identified. Affected environments frequently experience snowstorms and/or dense fog.

SCP-9870 prevents the generation of new heat within its area of influence. Once an environment is enveloped by SCP-9870, its temperature can no longer rise and begins to progressively decline. Attempts to introduce additional thermal energy may temporarily slow this decline, but quickly become ineffective. As SCP-9870 intensifies, all heat sources cease producing thermal output entirely. Affected environments continue cooling until dissipation.

SCP-9870 has various effects on both inorganic and organic materials within its affected environment consistent with non-anomalous cold. The most notable anomalous effect is severe subjective time distortion. Individuals commonly report SCP-9870 lasting “several days” despite external sources indicating only hours have passed. Subjects remain conscious throughout the perceived duration, leading to rapid psychological decline and an increased fatality rate.

SCP-9870 is believed to have influenced life for the entirety of known history.

Environment affected by SCP-9870.

Addendum — Interview-24F:

Date: 11/25/1982
Interviewer: Dr. Mira Morgan
Subject: Field Specialist Samuel Briggs
Location: ████████

Foreword: Field Specialist Samuel Briggs was a member of a five-person survey mission in northern ██████. During their mission, his team was caught in increased SCP-9870 activity and became trapped for 16 hours. Briggs was the only survivor. The following interview was conducted two weeks after extraction.

Dr. Morgan: Can you describe what happened during your mission?

Briggs: You know what happened.

Dr. Morgan: We’d like to hear it from you. Firsthand.

[Briggs briefly stares at Dr. Morgan.]

Briggs: We got sloppy. It caught us off guard. We didn’t have time to extract.

Dr. Morgan: Just like that?

Briggs: Yeah, just like that.

[Dr. Morgan stays silent for a moment.]

Dr. Morgan: Mr. Briggs, you are one of the three documented survivors of SCP-9870. Your testimony would be incredibly valuable. Please, details.

[Briggs quietly stares at Dr. Morgan for a few seconds, before nodding and letting out a sigh.]

Briggs: Alright, doctor. What do you want to know?

Dr. Morgan: Start from the beginning, walk us through it.

Briggs: I was out with Reyes and Anders. Ellis and Nolan stayed in the station. All of us got a bit too relaxed. Reyes was telling us some story from his army days. We all lost track of time and I suppose Nolan wasn’t paying attention much. Honestly, none of us were. We were all running on muscle memory at this point.

[BEGIN LOG — COMMS-01 | 15:39]

Reyes: —so I’m telling you, we finally got the relay up, and the lieutenant says, “Good work, gentlemen,” like he didn’t just watch us steal half the parts off a generator we weren’t supposed to touch.

Anders: Did it work?

Reyes: Long enough to pass inspection.

Nolan: That’s a yes.

Anders: That feels unsafe.

Ellis: He’s not wrong, Anders. I’ve seen Nolan do worse with less.

Nolan: Hey. I fix one thing with a paperclip—

Ellis: Everything.

Nolan: If it works—

Briggs: Don’t fix it.

Nolan: See? Briggs gets it.

Ellis: Briggs also doesn’t argue with people.

Briggs: I pick my battles.

Reyes: Smart man.

Anders: So wait, Captain—

Reyes: Just Reyes is fine.

Anders: Right, Reyes. You ever miss the army?

Reyes: Sometimes. Mostly I miss knowing exactly who to yell at.

Ellis: Must’ve been nice.

Reyes: It had its moments.

Nolan: Sounds like nostalgia to me.

Reyes: Yeah, that’s it.

Anders: I don’t know how you all did that for so long. I can barely keep my notes straight.

Ellis: You’re doing fine.

Nolan: Yeah. You’re only mildly annoying.

Briggs: Wow, high praise.

Reyes: You listen, you ask questions, and you don’t fake confidence. That already puts you ahead of most people I’ve worked with.

Anders: Thanks.

Ellis: Compliment! Write it down.

Nolan: Frame it.

Briggs: He earned it.

Reyes: He did.

[END LOG]

Dr. Morgan: When was this?

Briggs: Wednesday. Around 4 p.m., I think?

Dr. Morgan: Go on.

[Briggs waits for a few seconds before resuming.]

Briggs: Anders noticed it first. There was a blizzard heading our way and the temperature was dropping faster than usual. We started hauling ass right away. When we got back to the station, Reyes went straight to the garage to get the carrier ready. Anders and I went in to help pack essentials. Ellis was already panicking. Nolan was still sitting behind his desk though. It seemed weird at the time, but I had other things to focus on.

[He pauses.]

Briggs: I was able to see it catch up to us as we were still moving things to the front. Then Nolan started yelling that there was no time, that we couldn’t outrun it anymore. You could hear the panic in his voice, plain as day.

[He chuckles.]

Briggs: You can guess the reactions to that information.

[He falls silent for a moment and averts his gaze. Dr. Morgan doesn’t respond.]

Briggs: Ellis was stunned. Anders started losing his shit and arguing with Nolan.

Dr. Morgan: What did you do?

Briggs: I started to prepare the station. Lock it down, isolate it. Lowered window shields, cut external ventilation, disconnected everything that wasn’t needed, and so on.

Dr. Morgan: Impressive initiative.

Briggs: Well, somebody had to do it.

Dr. Morgan: Did you realize?

[Briggs remains silent for a moment.]

Briggs: I did.

Dr. Morgan: No hesitation?

[He pauses and briefly averts his gaze.]

Briggs: …No.

Dr. Morgan: You left your Captain to die.

Briggs: Fuck you! Opening the door would’ve killed all of us. He was dead either way.

Dr. Morgan: Did the others agree?

Briggs: By the time they realized, there was nothing they could do about it.

Dr. Morgan: What about their reaction? I imagine that wouldn’t go without scrutiny.

Briggs: For them, it was an accident.

[Dr. Morgan remains silent for a moment, staring at Briggs. He returns the gaze.]

Dr. Morgan: Right, sorry to interrupt. Continue.

Briggs: Mhm…

[He averts his eyes for a moment once again.]

Briggs: By the time I got back to them, they were all huddled up around the front door. Reyes walked from the garage only to be told the news at the door. Poor bastard. At this point it already surrounded the station, so he was just out there with it. They were all speaking to him through the comms.

Dr. Morgan: Did you speak to him?

Briggs: I did.

Dr. Morgan: How did that go?

Briggs: He understood once I explained myself.

Dr. Morgan: Did he?

Briggs: He did.

[BEGIN LOG: CAM-03 | Entry Hall | 17:41]

[Feed shows the station entry hall. Anders, Nolan and Ellis are standing by the front door, yelling towards Briggs, who remains off-screen. Loud banging can be heard repeatedly, along with Reyes' muffled screams coming from the outside.]

Reyes: OPEN THE DOOR! Please, for fuck's sake! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!

Ellis: Briggs, just open it! He's right there!

Nolan: Lift the lock Briggs! Come on!

Briggs: No! We can't let it in.

[Reyes slams into the door frame, a loud thud can be heard.]

Reyes: DON’T DO THIS! I CAN MAKE IT! I CAN MAKE IT INSIDE! JUST OPEN THE DOOR! JUST OPEN IT PLEASE! PLEASE!

Ellis: Jesus Christ, Briggs! He’s freezing out there! Open it, you motherfucker!

Briggs: I'm not sacrificing all of us for—

Nolan: FUCKING OPEN IT, BRIGGS!

[Nolan rushes towards Briggs, but freezes mid-step. His expression shifts, and he slowly backs away.]

Briggs: Don't even think of it, Nolan.

Reyes: PLEASE! IT'S SO COLD! PLEASE!

[END LOG]

Dr. Morgan: So, what did you all do after?

Briggs: We sat around the door talking to him for quite a while, must’ve been hours. Eventually he stopped responding. After that, things kind of died down. Everything seemed to be fine for a couple of hours. We tried to remain positive despite the situation.

Dr. Morgan: How did that go?

Briggs: Quite well, until the heaters stopped working.

Dr. Morgan: When did that happen?

Briggs: Not sure. Sometime in the evening, maybe early night.

[Dr. Morgan nods slightly.]

Briggs: So yeah, we were all getting cozy, ready to go to sleep, when Anders started complaining that the heaters didn’t heat as much anymore. Nolan started to fiddle with it. The room was still plenty warm though, so I left them at it and just went to sleep.

[He readjusts himself in his wheelchair.]

Briggs: I got woken up during the night. Actually maybe even early morning. Anders and Nolan were freaking out and yelling. The heaters stopped working entirely.

Dr. Morgan: What happened to them?

Briggs: Don’t know. Nolan said that everything was working how it was supposed to, they just weren’t producing any heat.

[Dr. Morgan doesn’t respond. She locks eyes with Briggs, both remaining silent for a moment.]

Briggs: You higher-ups knew, didn’t you?

Dr. Morgan: Knew what?

Briggs: That it shuts down heat.

Dr. Morgan: I’m sure that the foundation would inform the affected personel of any relevant inform—

Briggs: Nice spiel, you practice that?

[Dr. Morgan doesn’t respond.]

Briggs: Spare me the bullshit. You knew.

Dr. Morgan: I’m afraid that is classified information, Mr. Briggs.

[He scoffs and falls quiet, staring at Dr. Morgan, before speaking again.]

Briggs: Well, realizing that all of your heating equipment doesn't work anymore while trapped within SCP-9870 isn’t very nice, as you can imagine. The realization woke us right up and people lost it. Ellis started begging Nolan to try to fix it again. Nolan kept trying to explain that there was nothing he could do. Anders became a mess. I suggested trying a different heat source. Nolan said that there were some spare heaters in the back, so he and Anders went to get them. Took them like 15-20 minutes to get back with the bad news. They didn’t produce heat either.

Dr. Morgan: They didn’t bring them back?

Briggs: The heaters? No, they tested them right in the storage room. Didn’t work.

Dr. Morgan: I see.

[BEGIN LOG: CAM-07 | Storage Room | 6:13]

[Feed shows Nolan kneeling beside two portable heaters while Anders stands over him.]

Nolan: They’re wired correctly. The power's on. The coil's starting to glow. They’re fine, they should be heating—

Anders: Turn it up! Turn it all the way up—

Nolan: It IS up!

[Nolan slams his hand on top of the heater a few times.]

Anders: It’s broken. Fuck, it’s broken! We’re dead! We’re fucking dead—

Nolan: It’s not broken!

[He opens a panel and touches an internal coil for a few seconds. His finger comes away unburnt.]

Nolan: It’s just… cold.

[Both stare at the heater in silence.]

[END LOG]

Briggs: At first, we layered up. Jackets over jackets, blankets on top of that. Then we tore a bit of the insulation out of the walls and taped it over vents. Nolan sealed door seams with whatever adhesive he could find. It helped. Or at least it felt like it did. After that, not much happened for a while. We just kind of sat around and let the reality of the situation settle in.

Dr. Morgan: Why didn’t you call for help?

Briggs: We did… or Nolan tried at least. Multiple times actually, but the comms died the moment it hit us. It’s not like anybody would come to help us anyways. Not with it right outside the door. We were cut off.

[Dr. Morgan nods, but remains silent.]

Briggs: For a while the station stayed warm enough, but that started to dwindle. We could feel it coming through the walls, through the floor. It was slowly, but steadily creeping inside.

Dr. Morgan: What did you do?

Briggs: What was there to do? I sat down by the heater and waited.

Dr. Morgan: The heater that didn’t work?

Briggs: Hope’s a funny thing.

Dr. Morgan: Right.

[Briggs stays quiet for a few seconds, before speaking again.]

Briggs: The end of the second day, shit started to go downhill. The cold was getting worse. Nolan kept rechecking the readouts. All bad news. Ellis broke down completely and just started praying. Anders was already losing it for a while and decided to start a fire. Me and Nolan tried explaining why starting an open fire in an unventilated station wasn’t a good idea. Unsuccessfully, of course.

Dr. Morgan: Did he start it?

Briggs: No. Turns out the only good source of wood in the station was Nolan’s setup. He wasn’t ready to let that be destroyed yet and the argument turned physical.

Dr. Morgan: How did that go?

Briggs: I put Anders to sleep.

[Dr. Morgan smirks.]

Dr. Morgan: Of course.

Briggs: Ellis didn’t like that, lost her shit again. Started yelling at us and whatnot, and locked herself in Reyes’ room.

Dr. Morgan: Not her own?

Briggs: No. I’ll get to that.

Dr. Morgan: Right, sorry.

Briggs: Nolan went after her while I got Anders comfortable. By this point the station was getting cold enough to be a problem. I could feel it crawling up my limbs and my fingers going numb. I knew that falling asleep would soon mean death, so I decided to go to sleep early that night before the worst.

Dr. Morgan: Smart.

[Briggs nods and remains quiet for a moment.]

Briggs: The third day it all went to shit. I got woken up by Ellis and Nolan arguing. I could barely feel my fingers and toes. It was inside with us at this point. The power switched to emergency mode, so only a few lights remained. The whole station was pretty dark now.

Dr. Morgan: What were Ellis and Nolan arguing about?

Briggs: I didn’t know at first, but found out pretty quick once I went to check on them. Ellis was pointing a gun at Nolan, telling him to stay away.

Dr. Morgan: Reyes’ gun?

Briggs: Yeah.

Dr. Morgan: Right.

[BEGIN EXCERPT — RECOVERED ITEM SUMMARY]

Capt. Reyes' revolver.

Item: .357 Magnum service revolver

Condition: Cylinder open. Two spent casings, three live rounds in the chamber. Exterior frozen.

Location Found: Storage Room.

Fingerprint Analysis: Three distinct sets present on grip and trigger:

Capt. Elias Reyes
Dr. Rebecca Ellis
Field Spec. Samuel Briggs

[END EXCERPT]

Briggs: She was saying that it’s each for ourselves now. That she can’t trust us. Nolan was trying to get her to calm down and put down the gun.

Dr. Morgan: What did you do about it?

Briggs: Nothing. I left them to it. Wasn’t my problem and I couldn’t be bothered by this point.

Dr. Morgan: So what did you do?

Briggs: I went back to the main area. Anders was there with me, huddled on the floor. I sat down by the heater and just waited.

Dr. Morgan: For what?

Briggs: For it to get me.

Dr. Morgan: You gave up?

[Briggs quietly stares at Dr. Morgan for a few seconds.]

Briggs: You haven’t experienced SCP-9870, have you?

Dr. Morgan: I think everyone has experien—

Briggs: I’m not talking about your everyday breeze you get walking home from work, doctor.

Dr. Morgan: No, I haven’t.

Briggs: It shows.

Dr. Morgan: Enlighten me.

Briggs: Stationed up north you hear the stories quite often. You’ll quickly notice that none of them are first hand experiences. It doesn’t take a genius to realize why. No one survives it.

[He pauses.]

Briggs: You said I’m the third.

Dr. Morgan: You are.

Briggs: What happened to the other two?

Dr. Morgan: I’m afraid that’s not for you to know.

Briggs: [Scoffs.] Of course.

Dr. Morgan: But you are the first in a long time.

Briggs: Years?

Dr. Morgan: Decades.

[Briggs nods to himself.]

Dr. Morgan: Consider yourself lucky.

Briggs: [Chuckles.] Lucky…

[The room briefly falls silent.]

Briggs: It started to get a hold of me. I sat on a little stool by the heaters and felt it slowly creeping up my limbs. I hated that sting. It makes sure you notice it, hurts for some time and then it simply stops.

[He chuckles to himself.]

Briggs: Funny how quickly you start to miss it after your fingers go numb and stop listening to you. Every hour I could move less, feel less.

Dr. Morgan: What about the others?

Briggs: Anders just sat there with me, I imagine going through something similar. Nolan came back not long after. He was pissed off, blabbering about how Ellis is causing trouble for all of us. I just kind of zoned him out.

Dr. Morgan: What about Ellis?

Briggs: I don’t know. I never saw her again. She hid in the storage room.

[Dr. Morgan nods.]

Briggs: We stayed like that for a while. Must’ve been hours, I think. It’s all kind of a blur at this point. I remember that Nolan eventually got up to go confront Ellis again. I heard faint yelling for some time.

[He pauses for a moment, lets out a faint sigh and speaks softly.]

Briggs: Then I heard a gunshot. Then screaming.

Dr. Morgan: Did you go check on them?

Briggs: No, I had other problems. I could barely move. My limbs were stiff. Breathing was a challenge… I couldn't.

[Dr. Morgan doesn’t respond.]

[BEGIN EXCERPT — SITE RECOVERY SUMMARY]

Storage Room, post-incident.

Foundation response teams located the remains of Dr. Rebecca Ellis and Technician Michael Nolan within the station’s storage room.

Dr. Ellis was found seated against the wall. Observed trauma to the neck is consistent with manual strangulation.

Technician Michael Nolan was found nearby, deceased from a single gunshot wound to the abdomen.

Capt. Reyes’ service revolver was recovered at the scene.

Due to environmental conditions, precise times of death could not be determined. No evidence of post-mortem movement was observed.

[END EXCERPT]

Briggs: Anders returned to life though. I suppose with Nolan gone, the desk wasn’t needed anymore.

Dr. Morgan: Did he light it on fire?

Briggs: Yeah. He threw everything off it, pulled out a jerry can that he stashed, covered it in gasoline and pulled out a lighter. It took him a while to light it, but it worked.

[He pauses for a while and lowers his head.]

Briggs: That fire was the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen. It felt so… alive. The flame was dancing on that desk with such energy, such life. It felt like I was seeing something out of this world. I tried to get to it, but the moment I got off the stool I just fell. My legs weren’t working anymore. I asked Anders to drag me to it, but he just ignored me. Instead, he was standing right by it, yelling how he can’t feel anything. He kept getting closer and closer to the flame, complaining how it’s not heating him up. He was right, I couldn’t feel any heat either.

[Briggs averts his eyes and clears his throat.]

Briggs: So, he… uh… He decided that it was the clothes. Stripped naked and walked right into the fire. He was set ablaze pretty fast. His hair disintegrated. After a bit his skin began to bubble and tighten. But he just kept screaming about how he’s still cold, that he can’t feel anything. He started coughing and gasping from the smoke, scrambling back to his clothes. I saw his eyes turn white from the flame. He huddled down on the ground and started shivering, his skin sticking to the ground…

[The room briefly falls silent, Briggs avoiding eye contact.]

Briggs: He stopped moving soon after. So it was just me, alone. Lying right next to the fire, freezing, barely able to move. Every breath felt like a stab in the chest. The worst part was how quiet it all was. I was freezing to death right next to a burning desk, yet it was so quiet, so calm. Hour after hour I was fighting to stay awake as I felt it creep into my bones, real slow. Not rushing, just… taking its time, like…

[He chuckles.]

Briggs: Like it knew I wasn’t going anywhere. It plays with you, shuts you down piece by piece. Lets you see it, feel your body give up. Lets you understand what’s to come.

Dr. Morgan: Death?

Briggs: Worse. It doesn't let you decompose, return to dust. It keeps you, leaves you untouched. Same place, same position. Like a trophy.

Dr. Morgan: But you survived.

Briggs: Survived… Yeah… What’s left of me at least.

[He pauses.]

Briggs: It got me eventually. I fell asleep. Next thing I know, I woke up in here.

[Dr. Morgan nods.]

Dr. Morgan: So the whole ordeal was about 3-4 days for you?

Briggs: Something like that.

Dr. Morgan: You are aware that you were only trapped for 16 hours, right?

Briggs: I’ve been told.

Dr. Morgan: What do you make of that?

Briggs: Doesn't matter.

Dr. Morgan: Very well.

[The room falls silent for a moment. Briggs shifts in his wheelchair.]

Briggs: You know what I realized in that station?

Dr. Morgan: Tell me.

Briggs: The old-timers were right. Hell, generations before them were right. They used to fear the cold. Really fear it. They planned their whole lives around it. If it got bad, people died. Simple as that. Now we build a heater, flip a switch, and pretend we’re past all that. Like it’s just some inconvenience.

[He falls silent and leans forward.]

Briggs: But sitting there, feeling it crawl into my bones… it felt old. And I just kept thinking, “This is what they were scared of.”

[He pauses.]

Briggs: And I realized… it never went away. We just stopped caring. Stopped respecting it.

[He averts his eyes and quiets down.]

Briggs: Maybe we should’ve stayed scared.

Field Specialist Samuel Briggs.

Addendum — Post-incident Status Report: Follow-up surveys of the station indicate that while SCP-9870 activity has largely dissipated, the affected area has failed to return to baseline conditions. Temperatures remain slightly below expected levels, and heat sources continue to produce reduced thermal output.

Additionally, there has been a notable increase in SCP-9870 manifestations worldwide over the past three months.

Further investigation is ongoing.