SCP-1983 - Doorway to Nowhere
CLEARANCE GRANTED… WELCOME, AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL…
SCRIPT BASED ON ORIGINAL ENTRY BY DrEverettMann [CC BY-SA 3.0],
AND “Mr. Parker,” an SCP Tale by Erazm [CC BY-SA 3.0].
The voice of the Database was provided by Joshua Alan Lindsay.
The voice of the agent was provided by Joshua Alan Lindsay.
The voice of Agent Barclay was provided by Oktober Crow.
Mr. Parker.
Don't look so surprised, you have to have known this day was going to come eventually. One of your fellow boarders was kind enough to let me in. They won't be disturbing us, so please, sit down.
Let me make sure I have the right Jackson Parker.
55 years old. Born in Cleveland, Ohio. Multiple tours in Vietnam. Sentenced to death row for killing his wife’s lover. Date of execution May 19, 1979. Now a professional waiter at one of New York City's finest bistros. And…anyone ever tell you you look like Ernie Hudson? You know, the black Ghostbuster. Maybe I'm just thinking of him because the sequel's coming out in a couple of weeks. Whatever, forget it.
One thing they don't have in your file is your unshakable faith. You believe, in a way that so few others do, that everything happens for a reason.
I might feel the same way if I was one of the rare D-classes who have escaped termination. I have to say, you certainly earned this little life you've made for yourself here.
I saw the footage and the pictures from after the… event. I don't know if you ever had it fully explained to you what happened there. We learned that the creature you decommissioned was responsive to the beliefs of its viewers. One of our guys must have got it into his head that the thing was going to kill everybody. And because he thought that, it did.
Until it got to you, of course.
I know your exit survey was a little while ago, so to refresh your memory, the way you phrased it had to do with "falling back on your faith." You showed, in the face of this blood-drenched monstrosity, unwavering belief that you would make it out of there alive. And because you believed, it was true.
Listen… I'm sorry about what happened to you.
We used to be so callous. Hell, it was to the point of being stupid.
There may — or may not — be a thing that'll kill you if you blink in the same room as it. So far as we can tell, this thing also shits all over the place. Almost every time we sent some guys in to clean up its mess — snap! Their life's over, just like that. Only just built a robot that can do the cleaning a couple of years ago. It sickens me to think about all the men who never came out of that room, all because we didn't think of them as human. Just a letter and numbers.
But what we need you for, it can't be done by a machine. Look, I've been thinking about this a lot lately… there's something remarkable about the human heart. Don't you agree? No matter how much we want to give up or say "no" to life, the heart still beats. That's all it knows how to do. It keeps on beating: "yes-yes, yes-yes." It's admirable, something so resolute in its work.
And I know how you work, Mr. Parker. You know I'm here for a reason. And I think you know you're meant to do something that will save a lot of lives. If you do this for us — if you do this for me — we'll do everything in our power to make sure you get whatever you want for the rest of your days.
I think I can tell what that expression means.
Let me know when you're ready to go, D-14134.
[typing…]
[standard warning plays…]
Item #: SCP-1983
Object Class: Keter (Presumed Neutralized)
Special Containment Procedures: Outpost 54 has been built on the land surrounding SCP-1983 and disguised as a chemical plant. The "plant" building serves as barracks for MTF Chi-13 ("Choir Boys"). All entry points into Outpost 54 are to be guarded at all times. Personnel will review Document 1983-12, which details the cover story to be given to any civilians expressing curiosity.
All MTF personnel must profess strong religious beliefs, per Chi-13 protocols. All ammunition stocked must have a silver or silver-tipped projectile. A 24-hour watch is to be maintained on the front door of SCP-1983-1. Guards are to engage any instances of SCP-1983-2 on sight. No personnel is to approach within five meters of SCP-1983-1 outside of scheduled testing protocol.
UPDATE: Following the Event 1983-23, a stand-down of Outpost 54 has been authorized. A skeleton crew will remain to monitor SCP-1983 for any further activity. Arms intended for use against instances of SCP-1983-2 are to be maintained at Outpost 54 armory.
Description: SCP-1983-1 is a one-story farmhouse in ███████ County, Wyoming. It was abandoned in 1968 after a series of ritual murders, allegedly performed by a "Satanic" cult. Please see capture logs for SCP-████ for further details.
The front door of SCP-1983-1, when opened, appears to contain a spatial anomaly. Neither matter nor light has been observed to exit the doorway, save for instances of SCP-1983-2 (though the anomaly is exothermic).
SCP-1983-1 is accessible through other entrances, including windows, the back door, and entrances cut into the back of SCP-1983-1. However, the front room does not appear to exist inside of SCP-1983-1. Doors that should lead to the front room instead lead to other doors inside the building. Measurements of the inside and outside of SCP-1983-1 are inconsistent. Holes cut through the interior walls of SCP-1983-1 that should lead to the front room lead instead to the outside walls around the front of SCP-1983-1, but stop three meters on either side of the doorway. Attempts to drill into the front room of SCP-1983-1 from the outside have led to the exposure of smaller portions of the anomaly, though instances of SCP-1983-2 have not been observed to exit them. Further attempts to breach the wall have been forbidden by O5-3, due to the possibility of allowing increased potential for instances of SCP-1983-2 to appear.
SCP-1983-2 are bipedal creatures approximately 1.8 meters tall. They are vaguely humanoid, and entirely black in color. They are highly aggressive and will engage any human on sight. When an instance of SCP-1983-2 comes into contact with a human, they extend an upper limb into the human's chest cavity, without any apparent damage to skin or tissues. Through unknown means, they then extract the heart, killing the human. Once it has acquired a human heart, the instance of SCP-1983-2 will return to SCP-1983-1.
Silver munitions fired while offering prayer is the only known method of killing SCP-1983-2. The precise form of the prayer or religion of the supplicant does not appear to matter, so long as the prayer is sincere. Once killed, the bodies of SCP-1983-2 appear to "disintegrate," leaving a small layer of sulfur.
SCP-1983 was discovered after a series of mysterious deaths in the vicinity of ███████ County. Foundation investigators encountered instances of SCP-1983-2 and were able to trace them back to SCP-1983-1.
Addendum 1: A team from MTF Chi-13 was sent through the front doorway to attempt to investigate the anomaly. They did not return. However, shortly after they entered, the front door appeared, closing in the frame. No further manifestations of SCP-1983-2 appeared.
Addendum 2: A second assault team entered SCP-1983-1 to determine the fate of the first assault team. They did not return. The door did not close. Shortly after new manifestations of SCP-1983-2 appeared, Agent Morris entered the doorway, which closed shortly after.
Addendum 3: On May 23, 1989, D-14134 was given a closed circuit camera tethered to a monitor by a 25-meter cord. He was instructed to examine as much of the area as he could, and then attempt to return. Once through the doorway, feed from the camera was interrupted. The cord was pulled taut, and then snapped.
Several hours afterward, the anomaly in SCP-1983-1 disappeared. Inside, the desiccated remains of several agents were discovered, as well as Document 1983-15, an informal SCP report written by an agent within the anomaly. It appears as follows:
Item #: Pending
Object Class: Keter. God help you.
Special Containment Procedures: You're going to die, you poor dumb fuck.
This isn't a threat. I'm Agent Barclay. I'm in the middle of this goddamned thing, and I'm telling you, if you're here? You're going to die. I'm probably already dead.
So that's out of the way. Let's get to the containment procedures. There's really only one. Close the goddamned door. You aren't going to get back through there. You've probably already tried. But we know they can get out, if they try hard enough. That's how we found this fucking place. Hopefully, you've already done that. I know we did, once we gave up on getting out through there. If you didn't, then you go straight back and get that door closed. That is your only priority right now. You're going to die anyway. Might as well do some good before you're gone.
Description: So, here's a story, tell me if you've heard it before. The Foundation gets reports of trouble in Bumfuck, USA. Cattle and wildlife are dying mysteriously. Some people turn up missing. When a body shows up, autopsy finds the heart missing. Not cut out, not torn out, just gone. Empty space in the middle of the chest.
They find some sort of pitch-black things floating around. Some brain at the Foundation has seen something like them before, figures out how to kill them. Silver bullets, and pray to God as you fire. Literally. For some reason, that makes it work. Doesn't matter which God, but you damn well better mean it.
I can't, anymore. Not after seeing the nest.
Anyway, Foundation figures out where it's all coming from. Some house in the middle of Bumfuck. No one's lived there in years, not since yadda yadda, murder, cult, rituals, bullshit. The main thing is, these things keep appearing out of the front door. A team goes in, and they never come back out. But then again, neither do the monsters. A sane person would say, Good enough, keep an eye on it, kill anything that moves. But this is the Foundation.
You're a tough agent from MTF-Whatever-the-fuck. Maybe Sequere Nos, maybe Choir Boys, like me. You go bust down the door and run inside, and that's it. You're fucked.
The living room was bad enough. That's where they got O'Brien. They reached in, and suddenly he keeled over, and one of them took off with his heart in its… claws, I guess?
They're less distinct here. You probably noticed that. They're like shadows. Stay away from the light. I know that sounds stupid, but think about it. In the light, shadows are stronger. They have edges. When it's dark, they're indistinct. They can hardly touch you, and they don't see very well. I think they see by your shadow. I don't know. I'm just pulling at straws here, I'll be honest.
You've probably tried going back out the door, but if you haven't, don't. It leads to some place even worse. There aren't any monsters, but… Jones went too far from the house, and I swear to God, he started to melt. Things started popping out of him, and… All you need to know is he didn't make it back. That's when we closed the door.
So, we started moving through the house. We kept to the light at first, before we wised up. Three of us gone that way. But we got a pretty good picture of our surroundings.
This place? It's big. It's not just the farmhouse. It's like… It's like they stole bits and pieces of a lot of places, and stuck them all together. There's some bits that look like an apartment, some that look like a shopping mall, and even what I swear is a closet from my old high school. Same patterns on the tiles and everything.
There's also bits that are made out of… stuff. It's black, like the shadow-things, and it's mostly in the well-lit places. If the lights go out, you can stick your hand through. I don't recommend it. That's how we lost Torres. Something grabbed him, pulled him through. The hole wasn't big enough for his head, but he still went through, eventually.
So, stay away from the light places, but watch your step when it's dark.
Of course, there's no way out. We figured that out too. Any door you find, it either just leads to another room in this nuthouse, or it leads out there, and it's pretty obvious we can't live there. So it's wait until you starve to death or one of those things gets you. Great bunch of choices, huh?
There's one thing you can do. I couldn't go through with it, but maybe you can. It won't help you live, I don't think, but it's… I think it's important. I'm pretty sure someone's going to have to, or these things are going to get out eventually.
This place is stolen from lots of places. So I'm thinking there have to be other doors. We've closed all the ones we've found, but what if they get opened again? And the Foundation doesn't find them in time? Hell, they don't even know about closing the doors. I'm just hoping they figure out that if someone goes in, the things might stop getting out. And that's assuming everyone's smart enough to close the door after they come in.
So, I think I figured out a way to stop these things. It's the nest.
I only saw it once, for a few minutes. We followed one of the bastards after they got Denning's heart. It took it into a room that I guess is in the middle of this whole place. It's all black stuff, and they've dragged in every kind of light they could find, I guess. Lamps, flashlights, candles, you name it. Some of them were carrying more in as we watched. Anyway, at the middle, there's a big pile of hearts. Just tossed in a heap, and torn open, every one. They threw Denning's heart on the pile, and it started to beat, and then pulse, and then thrash around. Then it tore open, and one of those things pulled itself out. It shook itself, started to grow and then went right to work. The gross thing is that, torn apart as they were, the hearts kept beating. I swear I felt a twinge in my own chest.
There were shadows in the place. I don't mean the monsters, I mean real shadows, of people. Only there was no one there to cast them. They were coming from the hearts. A new one appeared at the same time as the hatching monster, and started trying to pull away, but it couldn't.
That was when I ran. I couldn't take it, you understand? I wasn't trained for this kind of shit. I heard the others behind me. I don't know if they were trying to stop me, or if the bastards had spotted us, but we got separated. I found a nice, dark closet, and I've been hiding in here ever since. I've been writing by penlight. I turn it off whenever I hear one of them getting close. It's worked, so far.
I can't go any further. I've got a few shots left in my gun, but I can't pray anymore, not and mean it. Not after I saw the nest. But you, if you've found this, you've got to be an agent too. Maybe you're stronger than I was. If you can, go in and destroy the nest. Destroy every last heart. If you do, maybe it'll kill them. It's the only thing I can think of. You'll probably die doing it, but you're dead anyway. So what's it matter to you how it happens?
Me, I'm going to try and get this report back to the living room, which I hope is where you found it. Then I'm going to make sure they can't use my heart to make another one of those things.
Good luck. Morituri te salutant.
SCP-1983 is presumed to have been neutralized by D-14134, who was posthumously awarded the Foundation Star (one of only two awarded to Class-D Personnel). Due to information contained in Document 1983-15, it is believed that the anomaly was not localized, as previously believed, and renewed resources have gone into attempting to locate similar incidents.
