vohzd.com
SCP-4705

The Hell We Bring With

Series
5
Size
16.9 KB
Views
0

3/4705 LEVEL 3/4705

CLASSIFIED

Item #: SCP-4705

Neutralized

Special Containment Procedures: Unnecessary. For posterity, the previous procedures have been archived.

CLOSE Archived Containment Procedures:

Secure Area-119 has been established at a perimeter of 5 kilometers from the area designated as SCP-4705. Three checkpoints have been created along the primary access route leading to SCP-4705 and each checkpoint demarcates a secure zone of the perimeter. No access is permitted beyond the second checkpoint without Level 4 authorization and all groups allowed to enter this area are to contain at least one member fluent in Japanese at all times.

Update: As of 1946-03-15 a significant reduction in the atmospheric phenomenon surrounding SCP-4705 was noted. Teams continued to evaluate the changing circumstances and it was determined that the exterior dimensions of SCP-4705 were contracting. Within 30 days the anomaly no longer generated any atmospheric interference of any kind and the interior was no longer accessible. Due to this change in circumstance, the area designated as SCP-4705 has been reclassified as Neutralized. Secure Area-119 is to remain in place for a period of 20 years and should no anomalous activity resume, it can be safely decommissioned.

Description: SCP-4705 was an extra-dimensional spatial anomaly affecting a roughly 8km2 area near the Hibu Shrine, located in the Shimane region of Japan. The approach to this location was characterized by an increase in cloud density and the appearance of a yellow-green haze, although neither of these conditions were visible via satellite surveillance or remote monitoring. At the designated boundaries of SCP-4705, both of these meteorological phenomena increased in intensity such that visibility was reduced to 30 meters or less.

The limitation of visibility also extended to electronic surveillance. Thermal imagery, satellite surveillance, thaumo-spectrographic imaging, and low-light enhancing technologies proved wholly ineffective at expanding operational range within the anomaly. In addition to limiting line of sight, SCP-4705 also attenuated electronic signals such that the effective range of standard issue communication equipment was limited to approximately 50 meters or less.

The interior of SCP-4705 included an unknown number of derelict buildings in various states of disrepair and neglect but also represented numerous eras of architectural style. The majority of the buildings documented were representative of 'modern' Japanese architecture however several buildings were consistent with styles and craftsmanship dating as far back as the early Edo period. The total square footage of all buildings documented exceeded the perceivable exterior dimensions of SCP-4705 by at least one order of magnitude; the true interior dimensions of SCP-4705 remain unknown.

Supplemental materials recovered in the course of investigating this anomaly identified aggressive, psychokinetic, metamorphic beings that inhabited the interior of SCP-4705. No proof of the existence of these entities was collected during the Foundation's investigation.


Discovery Log 4705.1:
Dateline: 1945-08-16 General Ogawa of the Imperial Japanese Anomalous Matters Examination Agency (IJAMEA) joined Foundation operations after the formal dissolution of his organization. The General provided intelligence on a number of matters of concern to the IJAMEA as well as several other remnant factions still loyal to Japanese Imperialist ideals and their personnel. As part of his cooperation, an active operational report that would lead to the discovery of SCP-4705 was provided. A translated copy of this report has been enclosed.


CLOSE Investigation Log 4705.2

Dateline: 1945-10-10 A contingent of Mobile Task Force Mu-13 ("Ghost Busters") made landfall near the mouth of the Kobe River in the early morning hours and traversed inland to the coordinates provided by General Ogawa. No tactical setbacks were encountered and the MTF reached the operational zone at 1300. Final equipment check and a unit status report were provided at 1335 and the MTF was given permission to proceed.

Unknown at the time, the anomaly affected electronic surveillance including recording equipment rendering much of the footage recorded unrecoverable. One member of MTF Mu-13 was designated as the group's videographer and their testimony has been used to order events, synchronize disparate media files, and clarify with written supplement as needed.

Recording begins with the sound of heavy boots on a gravel path and the miscellaneous cluttering of equipment as static clears. Transcriptionist indicates three members of the MTF are present: Graves, Dawkins, and Royce. Extraneous audio and video has been cut as necessary.

Graves: Okay fellas, let's get the NVDs out; cloud cover is getting mighty thick. Storm maybe?

Dawkins: Barometer is crashing, you're probably right. But it's not even 1400 yet?

Royce: Gettin' real tough to see. Do you think maybe a volcano went off? It's all dusty and stuffy and hazy like there's a forest fire or something nearby. Cloud cover jives with that.

Graves: NVD first, questions later. Doesn't really matter right now anyway.

Recording picks up again some time later as the MTF, now inside the anomaly, surveys a dilapidated convenience shop. Transcriptionist notes that the exterior of the convenience store was brick but the mortar between the stones was some sort of semi-translucent, gelatinous material that wept a rust colored substance. Upon examination, this substance was deemed similar to the material recovered from the torii gate and cataloged.

Agents Graves and Dawkins are visible near the checkout counter. Agent Royce, holding the camera, slowly walks around the interior ring of the store; the building's interior is rectangular with shelving units in the middle of the floor. The camera pans over several packaged food items overrun with mold or fungus and caked in a thick layer of slime. All organic foods visible appear to be in a similar state. As the camera continues to pan, Agent Royce eventually comes upon glass jars that are suspected to have contained food. The labels on all the jars have rotten away and the interior of the jar is filled with what appears to be a thickened, dark green substance.

The camera comes upon a thin wooden instrument by itself on a shelf. The object appears smooth, carved by hand, and has several kanji on its surface.

Royce: Hey, Dawkins. This thing here has some writing on it. Looks out of place. Mean anything to you?

Agent Royce reaches out to touch the gohei and as he wraps his fingers around it, a piercing scream overtakes the camera audio and causes the videographer to wince and recoil. As he does so, he throws the gohei back onto the shelf and falls onto his posterior, scrambling away. The accompanying agents run over to assist as the scream abruptly cuts off.

Graves: What in Sam Hill was that?

Dawkins: I don't know but it was gosh darn loud, and it sounded close.

Graves: Upstairs?

Dawkins: Afraid so. <Assists Agent Royce to his feet>

Transcriptionist indicates that the MTF was able to locate a door near the back wall that contained a staircase heading up. Footage resumes as the group is climbing the stairs. The camera is aimed down at the feet while the MTF ascends and as it levels, the faint outline of an open doorway is visible. Agent Graves is the first through.

Upon entry, Agent Graves freezes in place and Dawkins calls out to him trying to clarify what is wrong. Graves has no response and remains immobile for nearly thirty seconds until he tumbles backward and collides with the wall. He removes his NVD and begins to convulse until he vomits. Dawkins and Royce look in on the room.

Visible in the center of the room is a bedroll, canteen, rotted remains of a food item, and a saddlebag. The camera pans left and regards a large black spot on the wall. It is a roughly humanoid mass approximately 2.0 meters in height, partially blended into the wall. Exposed bones are visible through the material including a human skull, humerus, phalanges, ribs, and tarsals. The majority of the mass appears to be opaque and tarlike although indistinct crawling appears to be going on underneath the surface.

Dawkins: <Cocks his head and takes two slow steps closer> Is that…?

Royce: That's close enough. Not fucking kidding, not another step closer.

Dawkins: <Nodding as he covers his nose and mouth> Smells disgusting. Is that, is it still decomposing?

Royce: Doesn't look that fresh to me…

Dawkins steps away from the entity and kicks open the bedroll in the middle of the room. The interior of the bedroll is filled with the shriveled and desiccated corpses of countless insects including what appear to be centipedes, worms, slugs, and several different types of arachnids. Dawkins then kicks at the rotted pile of food; no effect noted. Finally, Dawkins uses his foot to try and open the flap of the saddlebag. As he does so, a gushing sound and a crunch are heard from off camera. The frame snaps left back to the black entity on the wall; the exposed skull has moved and its jaw hangs open. It screams.

Dawkins can be seen scrambling on the right side of the video as the videographer backpedals and the MTF leaves the room. Notable clamoring continues as they descend the stairs and static overtakes the video.

Video resumes an unknown amount of time later with the MTF walking through a yellow-green haze. Agents Graves and Dawkins are visible in front of the videographer and Dawkins is carrying a saddlebag. Although visibility is minimal, the cloud cover appears to be receding and light levels are increasing. The video log ends as the MTF passes under a torii gate and exit the boundary of SCP-4705.


CLOSE Supplemental Log 4705.3

The following transcription is a series of journal entries recovered from the personal effects of an unknown IJAMEA operative during the events of Investigation Log 4705.2. This journal has been translated from Japanese to English and archived with SCP-4705. The journal was separated from IJAMEA operatives for unknown reasons, and the ultimate status of the author is unknown.

We have reached the foot of the Mount. I can feel the oppressive air rolling down its slopes, thickening as it tries to smother us. The others are nervous as well but we steel ourselves for the challenge ahead. The Empire calls upon us to do our sacred duty and we will be worthy of that faith. We rise with the sun tomorrow and make our approach. The Saishu was right; I can feel the wrongness of this place. The grass itself seems to bend away.

We entered a thick fog after our climb. Midday has suddenly become near night and we have taken to break while torches are readied. Eight of us pass beneath the torii at Hibu Shrine. Shinpei saw movement in the distance and I fear the holy nature of our task got the better of him. He reached for his gohei and charged at the moment, screaming warrior's cry into this haze that follows us and chills our bones. We saw his torch bound and weave until it passed beyond our sight. Soon we chased after him. Many paces and we find his torch but it has gone dark. Many more paces and we find Shinpei on his knees in the road. His eyes have been wounded but he will not talk.

Shinpei tells us we must shield ourselves with our faith and it is the last time he speaks. We bandage him as best we can.

Captain swears we have encountered his childhood home. There are many homes here, many other buildings too. It is as if an entire city were laid out around us but all is empty except for the skittering. I can hear small feet pittering against the paved road. I can hear long nails tapping against brick. It is too dark to see anywhere beyond the torch. Too much haze surrounds us.

We lost Captain today. Tonight. Not sure; despite the cramped, tense, and thick fog the faint orange of the sun never seems to waver from the horizon. Never cutting through but always reminding us its out there, somewhere beyond our sight, our reach. We no longer have the right to feel its warmth.

Captain insisted that we double back to the place he called home as a child, to that house. Our mission yet unsatisfied and Shinpei growing worse by the hour we did not wish to deviate but we fear that our leader will not be able to shake what he has seen and felt since. Through no small miracle in this disorienting place, we found the home again and the Captain bid for us to wait outside. We allowed.

Moments passed as we waited, the moment pregnant with our tense attention. Hinata looked at me and went inside; I knew he could stand idly no longer and I did not stop him. Two more followed including me and I bid the others to attend to Shinpei. The home was empty save for piles of filth and soot. The walls grimy and rotten, the floor warped and wet. Whatever home this place used to represent it had become a corrupted and hollow shell of that purpose.

We came upon the Captain in what we thought was a bedroom. He was motionless in the middle. Our commander looked back over his shoulder and I swear he looked at me and in that very moment, I too was paralyzed by the magnitude of what he felt conveyed to me by glance alone. The air itself shuddered and warped around him and our Captain burst. Exploded. Combusted in a shower of blackness and death.

His bleached white bones laid bare on the floor before us and the darkness that dwelt within him now doused us all. There in his place was a hypnotizing thing, a ball, a floating mass of white and blue that roared color and energy against the pallor of despair that dominated this place. It was surrounded in a white-hot flame that dancing and moved as if it had life. Although it had no eyes, I felt it look at us. Wanting. Hungry. Hinata pulled out his gohei, hand trembling, and we backed away. We left.

Shinpei worsens. I believe he has a sickness of the blood. We knew the risk with his injury but somehow I know it is this place and no disease of man that takes him now. He asks to be left alone to face his fate but we cannot. We are carrying him now, one of us on each side. Not sure how long he has left.

We lost one during the night. Kaito's bedroll was empty this morning. Four of us took cardinal direction and one torch and spread out. Thirty minutes of paces and we did not find him. Well, I said I did not find him. What remained of Kaito was slumped against a well, his bleached white bones drowning in a black tar just like the Captain. I swear he looked at me as his essence oozed down the wall and I could hear him scream. With much shame I admit in this most private moment that I was afraid, I was in terror, and I ran.

Shinpei has died. There was no fever but his veins run black with his blood. I know what took him and we must leave.

I do not know how long it has been but we cannot find our way down. We got as the compass says and we should have reached the foot of the mountain twice over by now, but we are still among the still and silent buildings of this corrupt and diseased city. I can still hear their skittering and I know they will come for us as well, should we fail to leave. We have prepared more torches but our supplies dwindle. Water will be spent tomorrow if such a word can even still be used. Day blends into night blends into day. My watch continues on but it feels like I do not. I wish the skittering would stop. I wish they'd show their faces.

We ran. We ran and I am alone.

A blue flame approached us and we thought it the delicate bobbing of a scout's lantern but it carried no hope. Youkai, Oni, I'm not sure. As it parted the fog and stepped into the light of my torch it became the face of one hundred people or more. The hopeless, sick, lifeless eyes of a thousand corpses I saw as the light leave them forever. It was everything I am inside and I ran.

Boils on my arms now. I can feel them on my back. They are small sores with blackened edges and I have seen this disease before. It's the same thing the rats gave them back at the prison. I know it's in me now, I can feel it in every breath I take, every breath this places forces upon me with its sickening air. I find that there is poetry in this end that is coming for me. As the pain no longer lets me sleep, I lie here in my bedroll and contemplate what cruel poet must have ordained this. Perhaps it was me all along. I deserve this. For all that I have done, I deserve this.

I hope that my Imperial brethren are able to recover my journal, my bones. Know that there is nothing for you here except what you have brought with you. Every sin you carry pulled out through your pores. This is the hell we made.

With final respect, my life for the Emperor
Kazuto Shinsuke
Unit 731
Imperial Japanese Army