SnoopyTheFudge's Blog - Featured SCPs of the SCP Foundation (Vol.1)

1. SCP-173 (by Moto42): The Sculpture

• Perhaps the first SCP ever created, no one really remembers. It stands as a shining example as to why the Foundation exists.

Moved to Site-19 1993. Origin is as of yet unknown. It is constructed from concrete and rebar with traces of Krylon brand spray paint. SCP-173 is animate and extremely hostile. The object cannot move while within a direct line of sight. Line of sight must not be broken at any time with SCP-173. Personnel assigned to enter container are instructed to alert one another before blinking. Object is reported to attack by snapping the neck at the base of the skull, or by strangulation. In the event of an attack, personnel are to observe Class 4 hazardous object containment procedures.
Personnel report sounds of scraping stone originating from within the container when no one is present inside. This is considered normal, and any change in this behaviour should be reported to the acting HMCL supervisor on duty.
The reddish brown substance on the floor is a combination of feces and blood. Origin of these materials is unknown. The enclosure must be cleaned on a bi-weekly basis.

2. SCP-184 (by Dr Gears): The Architect

• While not a strange item by itself, its effect can create things far outside human understanding. This item shows that a SCP does not always need to be horribly dangerous to be interesting and creepy.

SCP-184 is a small, smooth metallic object, 10 cm (4 in) tall and 10 cm (4 in) wide, in the shape of a dodecahedron. Each face of the figure has a circular hole in the center, and a small sphere is attached to each vertex. SCP-184 is made of an unknown, but highly magnetic, alloy about as hard as brass.
When inside an enclosed structure, SCP-184 expands the structure's inner dimensions without altering its outer dimensions. SCP-184 will increase the inner dimensions of any enclosed structure by several hundred meters each day, beginning one hour after entry into the structure. Initially, SCP-184 only extends the walls out, causing rooms to become much larger without adjusting the height of the room. This expansion continues until the original dimensions of the room have been tripled.
At this point, SCP-184 starts creating wholly new rooms. SCP-184 is apparently able to copy items from inside the structure, creating furnished rooms consistent with the rest of the structure. After a period of time, however, the expansion process appears to break down. For example, items will be made from inappropriate materials (glass books, a wooden microwave), rooms will be oddly-shaped, doors will open into blank walls, and hallways will be tiny or twist back around in long mazes. The new inside structures continue to be more and more odd, while the outside remains unchanged.
This behavior is most dramatically illustrated in homes; however, it has been observed in other instances, including a cardboard box. The changes do not go away with the removal of SCP-184, but no additional structures are created.

3. SCP-294 (by far2): The Coffee Machine

• An example of how something as seemingly ordinary as a vending machine has the potential to horrifically bend the universe to a mechanically cold will. Make your selection with a great deal of care.

Item SCP-294 appears to be a standard coffee vending machine, the only noticeable difference being an entry touchpad with buttons corresponding to an English QWERTY keyboard. Upon depositing fifty cents US currency into the coin slot, the user is prompted to enter the name of any liquid using the touchpad. Upon doing so, a standard 12-ounce paper drinking cup is placed and the liquid indicated is poured. Ninety-seven initial test runs were performed (including requests for water, coffee, beer, and soda, non-consumable liquids such as sulfuric acid, wiper fluid, and motor oil, as well as substances that do not usually exist in liquid state, such as nitrogen, iron and glass) and each one returned a success. Test runs with solid materials such as diamond have failed, however, as it appears that SCP-294 can only deliver substances that can exist in liquid state.
It is of note that after approximately fifty uses, the machine would not respond to further requests. After a period of approximately 90 minutes, the machine seemed to have restocked itself. It is also interesting to note that many caustic liquids that would have eaten through a normal paper cup seemed to have no effect on the cups dispensed by the machine.
Testing is ongoing. As suggested, SCP-294 was moved to the 2nd floor personnel break room as a money-saving venture. Following incident 294-01, guards were stationed at the item and a security clearance became necessary to interact with it.

4. SCP-914 (by far2): The Clockworks

• A device capable of taking the simplest things, and changing them at their basest level to something else, though what it produces can vary greatly. Most often, the returned items in question can be related to the original, but other times…. The results are unique.

SCP-914 is a large clockwork device weighing several tons and covering an area of eighteen square meters, consisting of screw drives, belts, pulleys, gears, springs and other clockwork. It is incredibly complex, consisting of over eight million moving parts comprised mostly of tin and copper, with some wooden and cloth items observed. Observation and probing have showed no electronic assemblies or any form of power other than the “Mainspring” under the “Selection Panel”. Two large booths 3mx2.1mx2.1m (10ftx7ftx7ft) are connected via copper tubes to the main body of SCP-914, labeled “Intake” and “Output”. Between them is a copper panel with a large knob with a small arrow attached. The words Rough, Coarse, 1:1, Fine, and Very Fine are positioned at points around the knob. Below the knob is a large “key” that winds the “mainspring”.
When an object is placed in the Intake Booth, a door slides shut, and a small bell sounds. If the knob is turned to any position and the key wound up, SCP-914 will “refine” the object in the booth. No energy is lost in the process, and the object appears to be in stasis until the Output Booth door is opened. Intense observation and testing have not shown how SCP-914 accomplishes this, and no test object has ever been observed inside SCP-914 during the “refining” process. The process takes between five and ten minutes, depending on the size of the object being refined.

5. SCP-002 (by The Administrator): The "Living" Room

• A huge ball of tissue, like a massive tumor, with a heavy hatch door, leading in to… a small, crappy apartment. A bit of a let down… until testing shows that everything inside is made from human beings. Woven hair, sculpted bone, and other, less pleasant, materials make up the furniture…and SCP-002 is always looking to grow.

SCP-002 resembles a tumorous, fleshy growth with a volume of roughly 60 m³ (or 2000 ft³). An iron valve hatch on one side leads to its interior, which appears to be a standard low-rent apartment of modest size. One wall of the room possesses a single window, though no such opening is visible from the exterior. The room contains furniture which, upon close examination, appears to be sculpted bone, woven hair, and various other biological substances produced by the human body. All matter tested thus far show independent or fragmented DNA sequences for each object in the room.
Refer to the Mulhausen Report [cross-ref:document00.023.603] for details related to object's discovery.

6. SCP-804 (by Sorts): World Without Man

• A beautiful globe, built by an artist group…that causes the rapid decay and disintegration of every nearby man made object…and Man itself, for that matter. What's more, this is no accidental device, or a strange twist of time and space…it is doing exactly what the builder wants it to do.

SCP-804 is the remains of an art installation titled "World Without Man," revealed on ██/██/20██, by the defunct artists' group Unelmat Paremmasta Maailmasta. According to documentation retrieved and deleted from the artists' website during clean-up procedure, SCP-804 was originally a large, clear globe of the Earth, with several smaller globes and video equipment within. Promotional material on the website implied that the globe was to display images of pastoral wilderness untouched by mankind contrasted with visuals of abandoned human industry and decaying landmarks.
Upon activation before a small audience of prominent environmental activists and artists from the nearby community of █████ █████, SCP-804 began to display its destructive properties. We can only speculate if the device's output was intentional or not, as those involved in its construction perished during the incident or have gone into hiding.
While the globes within SCP-804 rotate, all man-made artifacts within approximately 100 meters begin to rapidly deteriorate until completely disintegrated. The effect applies to anything ranging from machinery to buildings, clothing, plastics, synthetic chemical compounds and any tool more complex than a sharpened stick of wood. The area of effect grows the longer the device is active, with the effect growing ever stronger at its source. Human tissue is also affected at a slower rate of decay, causing victims to become emaciated as they lose body mass—leading up to collapse of the skeleton and death, with the body swiftly breaking down into component matter shortly thereafter. Non-human life is completely unaffected. Persons who escape the area of effect experience symptoms similar to prolonged starvation but can return to full health with proper care.
If not for the fact that it is not entirely immune to its own effect, SCP-804 would have had the potential to remove all trace of humanity from the globe in a matter of weeks. Judging from the observed rate of destruction upon original activation versus its current capabilities under testing, SCP-804's capabilities have been impaired by the damage it caused to itself. However, sustained use still presents an extreme threat especially if the device is somehow refined or repaired.
Due to the circumstances in which SCP-804 was secured it is strongly believed that the device also possesses some form of mental compulsion on those who view it, but testing is still on-going to determine if that property has also been compromised by the decay of SCP-804 and how it might be contained. See Recovery Log for further information.

7. SCP-093 (by far2): Red Sea Object

• A red stone disc with unknown engravings that is attracted to mirror surfaces. However, when held by a test subject, the stone allows the user to move through the mirror. It quickly becomes apparent though that whatever is on the other side isn't your reflection…

SCP-093 is a primarily red disc carved from a stone composite resembling cinnabar, with circular engravings and unknown symbols carved at 0.5 cm depth around the entire object. Deeper cuts are present on SCP-093 with a depth of 1 to 1.5 cm. SCP-093 is 7.62 cm in diameter and fits comfortably into most palms without abrasion. SCP-093 will change hue when held by a living individual. The colors taken by SCP-093 are still being researched to establish a link. Current belief holds that the changes depend upon regrets carried by the holder.
If SCP-093 is removed from a mirror and not held by a person, it will seek out the nearest mirror-like surface. SCP-093 has been observed to travel in the largest possible circle while rolling, building up phenomenal speed. The mechanism of this acceleration is currently unknown. If an obstacle is between SCP-093 and the nearest mirror-like surface, it will use this momentum to punch through the obstacle and continue on its course at this speed. It will only stop when a mirror-like surface is contacted. Despite tremendous impact velocities, no damage will be dealt to SCP-093 or the mirror.

8. SCP-2558-J (by ClockworkMage): Puffer Kittens

• No, wait, what? Really? Woah.

Under normal circumstances, SCP-2558-J appears to be a group of normal kittens, of several different breeds. They are nearly universally friendly and tend towards affectionate interaction with humans and each other.
When startled or threatened, they inflate into a ball of fluff roughly the size of a soccer ball. Their eyes are still visible through the fluff, and they begin mewling in a way that induces semi-parental instincts in all nearby, including the hearing impaired. Their range of motion is limited to anywhere they can roll, but they display surprising agility even when attempting to navigate a cluttered environment in fluff-ball form.
Several varieties have been observed, including longhaired, hypoallergenic, grenade (see Addendum), and bouncy.

9. SCP-055 (by xtheevilecorruptor): [unknown]

• The self-keeping secret. Nobody knows what it is, nobody knows what it does. Anyone who sees it forgets about it entirely in the space of minutes. It may have killed hundreds of people, or it may have been placed by an outside force to invisibly monitor the Foundation or humanity…. and nobody would know.

SCP-055 is a "self-keeping secret" or "anti-meme". Information about SCP-055's physical appearance as well as its nature, behavior, and origins is self-classifying. To clarify:

• How Site 19 originally acquired SCP-055 is unknown.

• When SCP-055 was obtained, and by whom, is unknown.

• SCP-055's physical appearance is unknown. It is not indescribable, or invisible: individuals are perfectly capable of entering SCP-055's container and observing it, taking mental or written notes, making sketches, taking photographs, and even making audio/video recordings. An extensive log of such observations is on file. However, information about SCP-055's physical appearance "leaks" out of a human mind soon after such an observation. Individuals tasked with describing SCP-055 afterwards find their minds wandering and lose interest in the task; individuals tasked with sketching a copy of a photograph of SCP-055 are unable to remember what the photograph looks like, as are researchers overseeing these tests. Security personnel who have observed SCP-055 via closed-circuit television cameras emerge after a full shift exhausted and effectively amnesiac about the events of the previous hours.

• Who authorized the construction of SCP-055's containment room, why it was constructed in this way, or what the purpose of the described Containment Procedures may be, are all unknown.

• Despite SCP-055's container being easily accessible, all personnel at Site 19 claim no knowledge of SCP-055's existence when challenged.

All of these facts are periodically rediscovered, usually by chance readers of this file, causing a great deal of alarm. This state of concern lasts minutes at most, before the matter is simply forgotten about.
A great deal of scientific data has been recorded from SCP-055, but cannot be studied.
At least one attempt has been made to destroy SCP-055, or possibly move it from containment at Site 19 to another site, meeting failure for reasons unknown.
SCP-055 may present a major physical threat and indeed may have killed many hundreds of personnel, and we would not know it. Certainly it presents a gigantic memetic/mental threat, hence its Keter classification.

10. SCP-882 (by Dr Gears): A Machine

• A monstrous heap of moving metal, you soon discover that it is no purposeless pile of junk. As you listen to its grinding, wheezing, clicking, and whirring, you begin to hear a message; it is the voice of God, gently whispering for you to heed its call, and help it realize its enigmatic machinations.

SCP-882 appears to be a random assembly of gears, cables, pulleys, screws, and belts, all made of an amalgam of various metals. Object's size at time of recovery was approximately eighty-seven cubic meters. Current size is approximately twelve cubic meters. SCP-882 rusts quickly in seawater. No identifiable energy source has been found, but all components will begin to move if not coated in rust. SCP-882 is completely silent at all times, no matter what level of activity SCP-882 reaches.
Any metal touching the object will become permanently affixed to it, and over a period of a few days becomes a new part of the object. Organic matter remains unaffected. SCP-882 is extremely resilient, with tensile strength and toughness above those of aircraft grade titanium alloy by weight, even though its composition appears to be a random alloy of iron, tin, gold, and other metals, some as of yet unidentified. Extreme, focused heat must be applied over several hours to cut even a small portion free of the main assembly.
Persons remaining in the vicinity of the object for prolonged periods have developed auditory hallucinations while near the object, mainly the sound of grinding and clicking. The sound intensifies, and is abated only by throwing metal into the object. Subjects in advanced states of psychosis have thrown themselves into the object, resulting in almost instant death by crushing. The body is often drawn in, and impossible to recover.
SCP-882 was recovered from a location at the north-east coast of Banks Island. Area was barren of all metal and metallic ore in a one mile radius. SCP-882 was found at the geometric center of the area. SCP-882 had become submerged in seawater at the time of discovery. A small town was found nearby, abandoned for several years. SCP-882 was removed, and shortly started to flake off rust, causing the varied parts to begin motion. After several accidents, SCP-882 was cut down and contained on site.

All credit goes to http://www.scp-wiki.net .