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Item#: 8392
Level1
Containment Class:
safe
Secondary Class:
{$secondary-class}
Disruption Class:
vlam
Risk Class:
caution
SCP-8392 as viewed from Kilmory, Ardnamurchan
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8392 is the subject of mythologisation by residents of Acharachle, who attribute many anomalous properties to SCP-8392 in addition to those known to the Foundation; it is not presently believed that these beliefs hold any merit beyond that of mundane superstition.
No disinformation protocols are necessary for SCP-8392. Roadblocks, checkpoints, and signage are to be deployed as necessary while SCP-8392 is active in order to turn away traffic and prevent civilian access to the anomaly. A Foundation monitoring outpost is to be maintained within SCP-8392 during active periods.
Description: SCP-8392 is an annual weather phenomenon affecting a ~60 square kilometre parcel of pine forest within Lochaber of the Scottish Highlands, inclusive of the village of Acharachle. While active, SCP-8392 induces atmospheric hypersaturation, unremitting precipitation, and heavy electromagnetic interference, preventing radio communication for its duration. SCP-8392 occurs from early May to mid-July of each calendar year.
Addendum 8392.1: Recovered Materials
- ACCESS GRANTED
The monitoring outpost for SCP-8392 as photographed on 24/07/95
Following the failure of the Acharachle monitoring station to respond to a check-in broadcast following the cessation of the 1995 occurrence of SCP-8392, operatives were dispatched. The stationmaster could not be found and no sightings were reported in Acharachle; documents and audiovisual media of unknown provenance were recovered from the building.
The following items may be out-of-order in their presentation. However, recovered audiovisual tapes and journals have been arranged in approximate order of chronicity.
Evidentiary Item 8392.14/08/95-SD.2a “Female Effigy”
Description: A 164cm tall humanoid object made from twine, wicker, and loose fabric. A polaroid photograph of Researcher Melanie Harper, one of two individuals assigned to the SCP-8392 monitoring outpost in 1990, is nailed to the section of the figure corresponding with the head. The head is damaged, with a deep crack running through the centre of the facial area. The figure is dressed in feminine clothing and has a cassette inside its chest. Age and provenance unknown.
Cassette Transcript: “My name is Melanie Harper. I remember myself.”
Evidentiary Item 8392.14/08/95-SD.42a “Olympus D120 Pearlcorder w/M90 Microcassette” - Excerpt 0:16-3:53
Male Voice: “-ine fire going, don’t you want to come down?”
Female Voice: <Sigh> “I’ll be there, I’ll be there. You go down and warm yourself up first, alright?
Male Voice: ”I get to inhale all that wet-smoke without you?”
Female Voice: “You’re a young fit male without risk factors; you’re allowed to indulge some lung disease in moderation.”
Male Voice: “Forget it. Do your posterity thing.” <Pause> “I’m guessing that after twenty-something years of this, now’s a little too late for you to start living in the moment?”
Female Voice: “We’re made by our memories.”
Male Voice: <Sigh> “I’ll see you downstairs. And you know, that tape’s been running.”
<Footsteps, creaking>
Female Voice: “Open a window if you have to! You’d better not actually inhale any of that crap.”
Male Voice: “I’ll be fine.”
Female Voice: “Now and thirty years down the line when you’re taking oxygen through a straw?”
Male Voice: “Of course, I’ll have you.” <Pause, shouting from a distance> "Speaking of, what's for dinner tonight?"
Female Voice: “Cock-a-leekie!”
Male Voice: “Like me mam used to make? You’re a gem, Mel!”
<Footsteps, gradual movement: 0:17>
Female Voice: “Fourth of May 1990, night one in the Hôtel Nulle Part.” <Sigh> “Didn’t have time to record this in the morning. Left at five A.M., Glenn drove, I slept. Got here, spent maybe a good three hours moving cords of wood from the dropoff into the shed. We don’t have running water, gas, or electricity, so we’re bringing all of the supplies we’ll need for the next two months. I’d say that it’s a picturesque getaway from the trappings of civilisation, but the diesel generator in the basement and the car waiting out front to take me back to my desk job and a chewing out from my supervisor beg to differ.”
“God knows whether being sent here was a creative experiment in punition or an attempt at forcing a blessing upon us. Glenn, I can tell, is eager to make the most of this. I don’t know where I lie, to be frank. I’ve spent so long dancing around the barriers to our romance that I never gave much thought to what I’d do when they were removed. A cynic might say that it was the game that enticed me, rather than the players.”
“I suppose these two months will be an experiment for us, to see if our relationship can survive being in the open. I have to be optimistic, but it’s always been a simmer rather than a blaze, and I worry that he might want to move faster than me. His definition of a prelude may be my conclusion, so to speak.”
“Still, you could say that I love the bastard. It’s just me and him in this chalet of decay. Never been able to love in the open; perhaps there’ll be fun in learning how. God knows my brain is already switching into a different gear. Everything from before I woke up in the car this morning feels a little unreal, like it was all a long dream that I’m shaking myself out of. Is it possible to diagnose derealisation in retrospect?”
<Shuffling, silence: 0:11>
Female Voice: “Is this what it was like, mama? On the moors, in the foxfire? To dream? Before it all slipped from you, you made me afraid to forget. But after you left your memories of me behind, the world seemed to become so fantastical for you. Did losing yourself make you happy?” <Pause> "I'm sure you told me. You must have. But I…"
Male Voice: <Distant, shouting> “You done up there? Fire’s roaring, come on down!”
Female Voice: <Exhale> “I’m sure it’ll come back to me.”
<End of relevant excerpt>
Evidentiary Item 8392.14/08/95-SD.16a “Sony CCD M8E/U w/8mm Internal Cassette” - Excerpt 57:01-1:01:30
< Video shows a view from the east-facing window of the house’s loft. Centre-focus: the house’s eastern yard, with trellises and wooden debris suggestive of the previous presence of a marquee stand. The treeline begins 50-60 feet from the base of the house. Heavy precipitation and severe winds are observed. A rough collie dog with no collar is digging in the soil. >
Male Voice: “What’s out there?”
Female Voice: “Cutie patootie.”
<Footsteps>
Male Voice: “Are you talking to me, or is there a cat outside?” <Movement> “Well I’ll be. That’s a dog.”
Female Voice: “You’re so smart, Captain Obvious.”
Male Voice: “Do I get something for that?”
Female Voice: “Only because you asked so nicely.”
< Perspective shifts towards the speakers. Researcher Melanie Harper (Female Voice) and Researcher Glenn MacCullach (Male Voice) kiss. >
Harper: “Coming on a little aggressive there, don’t you think?”
MacCullach: “Thought you liked forwardness in a man.”
Harper: “No, I like someone who doesn’t know where they stand with me. Boyfriends who second-guess are eager to please.”
MacCullach: “You’re such a bitch.”
Harper: “And you’re living proof that even that can’t stop me from pulling.”
MacCullach: “You’re not being a very good feminist right now.”
Harper: “What’s more feminist than being a real rotten example of a woman?”
MacCullach: “I’ll tell you what isn’t.”
< MacCullach leans towards Harper and grips the fabric of her blouse. Harper slaps MacCullach with little force and places the recording device on a table. >
Harper: “Easy there Casanova, let’s not blow the gasket too early.
MacCullach: “Haven’t we waited long enough?”
Harper: “It’s our first time. It’s gotta be special.”
MacCullach: “Every breath I take is the first breath of that length, resonance, and texture in the history of humanity. Who cares about firsts? There’s more of those than repetitions.”
Harper: “I just don’t want to forget a thing.”
MacCullach: “Right. ‘Cause of your mamam.”
Harper: “Not everything’s about that damage.”
MacCullach: “But so much is with you. It’s always the past, never the future. Always what’s been done, and hardly ever what we could do. Sometimes I wish I could make you forget every day but yesterday. You’d live so much happier.”
< Thunder is heard. Lighting fixtures briefly dim. >
Harper: “I wouldn’t know if I was happy. Not without anything to compare it to.”
MacCullach: “Who cares about comparisons? When I hold you, do you think ‘my last boyfriend was better’, or do you just accept that there’s someone whose arms you’re in that loves you?”
Harper: <Laugh> “Chris was a better man to hug I’ll say, porcupine. Unless what I’m feeling are goosebumps, in which case; free pass.”
MacCullach: “I’m being serious Mel. Memory makes you miserable. The only place with joy in it is the present.”
< MacCullach pulls Harper into a waltz. >
MacCullach: “Chris couldn’t dance like I could, could he?”
Harper: <Smile> “Chris wasn’t brave enough to learn.”
MacCullach: “Brave enough to learn, or to accept being called sissy for taking classes?”
Harper: “I dunno. Don’t think he was too insecure about his masculinity.” <Pause> “Come to think of it, I don’t remember Chris that well. I know thinking about him used to make me sad. Or rather, that it’s meant to hurt, but-” <Inhale> “… but I don’t know. I just don’t remember all that much about him.”
MacCullach: “Mel, come on.”
Harper: “I remember telling stories about him, but not the memories those stories came from. You know?”
MacCullach: “Hey, you’re getting into your own head again. Look at me, alright? Look at me, I’m here.”
< MacCullach and Harper continue dancing for some time. Harper’s gaze is downturned. She eventually places a hand on her neck. >
Harper: <Exhale> “My scarf. My mam made it for me. You know the story behind it?”
MacCullach: “It was a birthday gift.”
Harper: “But which one? I should know. Why don’t I know?”
MacCullach: “Don’t think about that. Stay with me.”
Harper: <Mumbling> “I promised I'd never forget her, even if she lost herself. How did I let it slip away? When did it even happen?”
MacCullach: “Enough of this, let’s have you.”
< MacCullach takes Harper’s wrists and shifts her towards the wall. Harper pushes MacCullach away. >
MacCullach: “For God’s sake woman! What’s wrong?”
Harper: “There’s holes in me, Glenn. I feel empty.”
<End of relevant excerpt>
Evidentiary Items 8392.14/08/95-SD.13a-13b “Paired Photographs of Melanie Harper”
Description: Two photographs of Researcher Harper, one of them of her and Researcher MacCullach standing on a beach, and the latter of Harper inside the SCP-8392 monitoring outpost. The former photo is labelled "1985, 4th May, Luskentyre". The older image has had red circles drawn around several features: a birthmark on Harper's neck, a scar on her right shoulder, and a mole on the back of her hand. In the newer image the birthmark is absent, the scar is significantly larger, and the mole is on her right hand instead.
Evidentiary Item 8392.14/08/95-SD.42c “Olympus D120 Pearlcorder w/M90 Microcassette” - Excerpt 8:19-9:05
Harper: “Ninth of May 1990. I don’t know what to say, really. Half a week of domestic bliss passed underneath me, and I barely even noticed what an effect it had on my psyche.”
“So much of my life is just missing. So much of me. Maybe that feeling of distance that I felt towards everything that happened before the morning of the fourth wasn’t so benign after all.”
“Why do I only remember the parts of my history that Glenn was there for? Is it love? Some fairytale answer like that? Well, he won’t even look my way today after I freaked out in front of him. He’s scared, or angry. I don’t blame him, but without his heart next to mine, I feel like I’m drowning. I know what he wants, but… I don’t know. Is there even enough left of me to say yes?”
“I want to go home, but I’m not in my right mind right now; my wants aren’t trustworthy. I don’t know whether it’s this place or just my mind’s reaction to being somewhere new, but I feel so confused, and slow right now. I played five games of Chess with Glenn and we tied them all. Tied! I’m a regional champion and he’s never touched the game in his life.”
“I know so little, and I have so little context for what I feel.”
<Distant barking, approaching footsteps>
MacCullach: “Hey hon. What’s going on?”
Harper: “Oh, Glenn. I thought you were mad at me.”
MacCullach: ”Mad? How could I ever be at you? How are you feeling, is it something I did?”
Harper: “I just don’t know anymore. I think we’ve got to go home, Glenn. I need a doctor.”
MacCullach: “A doctor? Are you feeling confused?”
Harper: “No, and that’s the weird thing. If I’d taken a hit to the noggin’ I’d be all sixes and sevens, right? But I feel fine, the thoughts come easy. It’s just that there’s parts of me that I thought were there but aren’t; things I thought I could do that I simply can’t. We played Chess, right? I’m good at Chess, I know I am. So why can’t I beat you?”
MacCullach: “I might’ve been practising.”
Harper: “Yerright, show me the trophy. But it’s not just that. I used to be so into pencil-sketching and reading. I finished the whole of The Brothers Karamazov, you even watched me read it, and I can’t remember a single bloody line.”
MacCullach: “Well pardon me being a little facetious, but those weren’t the most interesting parts of you to begin with.”
Harper: “Fuck you. I don’t know how much of me’s left. Just the vitals of what makes a person? Less than that? I don’t know if it’s this place or just my brain playing tricks on me.”
MacCullach: “Listen: you still sound like Mel, you still look like her, and you still feel like her. You’re the woman I love, arright? Your memories don’t make you, they made you; past-tense. At the end of the day, you’re still here.”
Harper: “I’m just scared that it’s only going to get worse.”
MacCullach: “Don’t be. My sister used to get episodes like yours. It’s more common than you think. And it can be frightening, I know, but she-”
Harper: “Was your sister a researcher, Glenn? Did your sister’s mum die of dementia? Did your sister spend twenty years of her life brick-fucking petrified of forgetting herself?”
MacCullach: “Mel-”
Harper: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry Glenn, that wasn’t right of me to say. But Christ, I’m so scared of forgetting. I’ve always been. I wish I’d brought my cassettes; I thought for sure I packed them but I can’t find them anywhere. Ten years of putting my thoughts onto a piece of tape, and they’ve gone missing.” <Laugh> “What if that’s the cause? My brain didn’t hang onto any of this stuff because it thought it could rely on a piece of polyester to retain the memory for it?”
MacCullach: “Come to bed with me, Mel. You’re out of all sorts. And tomorrow, I can take you into town to see a doctor. Ok?”
Harper: “A doctor? What’s a doctor meant to do? I need you right now, Glenn. I need someone to help me remember all the things that’re slipping away.”
MacCullach: “You know your own life story though. Listen, listen arright? You still sound like yourself, and if it weren’t for this panic, I’d not know the difference. Truly. Whatever it is that you’ve forgotten, that wasn’t what made you you.”
Harper: “I’m afraid of myself, Glenn. I don’t know if I’m what’s best for you right now. Am I even the woman you know? The anchors I built myself around are all gone. All of them but you.”
MacCullach: “I don’t care how hard you make it for me Mel, I will always love you. Now c’mon, let’s get you some supper.”
<End of relevant excerpt>
Evidentiary Items 8392.14/08/95-SD.83a-83p “Countertop Polaroid Collection, 1-16”
Photograph 6
Photograph 1: Eastern yard of the research outpost. Rough collie dog pictured digging. Small rectangular reflective object in its mouth. Written in margins: “09/05/90”. Text is repeated for all other images in the collection.
Photograph 2: Multiple scarecrows in the roadside treeline.
Photographs 3-13: Closer view of scarecrows. Most instances are dressed in contemporaneous clothing. 6x children, 11x adults, 2x animals (dog and cat). Ribbons of paper and other writable materials have been woven into the scarecrows, covered in illegible text.
Photograph 14: A close-up of the dog scarecrow, which resembles the rough collie seen in Photograph 1. Harper’s hand is seen in the foreground, holding a clump of hay. There is a visible indentation in the scarecrow’s neck. Written on the back of the photograph: “oops”.
Photograph 15: Blurry image of a road from the inside of a moving vehicle, believed to have been taken in error.
Photograph 16: Facade of the Doctor Albert Haspanjard GP clinic in Acharachle. Written on the back: “he knew my name (do I know him?)”
Evidentiary Item 8392.14/08/95-SD.16d “Sony CCD M8E/U w/8mm Internal Cassette” - Excerpt 1:09:38-1:16:53
< Video begins outside a convenience store. Harper and MacCullach are standing outside their vehicle. >
MacCullach: “-the doctor says you’re alright then I believe him.”
Harper: "How does a mole move from one side of my body to the other? When I brought it up the 'esteemed clinician' called me hysterical, did you catch that? I felt like I'd been sent to the '60s, sans the compensatory factor of over-the-counter cocaine."
MacCullach: "A mole is such a minor thing in the grand scheme of things. Who knows, you might just be misremembering-"
Harper: "I might have forgotten which hand goes on which wrist?" <Sigh> "Of course you wouldn't care. You barely remember the colour of my eyes."
MacCullach: "That's not-" <Exhale> "I'm just saying that it's not a big deal."
Harper: “Why are you so keen to see me straight? It’s my body, I know when something’s not right.”
MacCullach: “You said yourself in his office that you don’t feel any different from normal, it’s just in retrospect there’s some gaps in your memory. That’s not abnormal, that’s called forgetting; it’s part of being human. You know you aren’t sick, Mel.”
Harper: “You’d love if I was really okay, wouldn’t you? ‘Cause then we’d be shagging like sheep. Well to tell you the truth Glenn, you aren’t even a very good fuck! Now go badly fuck off for me.”
MacCullach: “Where are you going? Hey!”
< Video shifts to the inside of the store. Harper closes the door behind her. MacCullach stands outside for several seconds before lighting a cigarette and receding. >
Harper: <Whispering> “When the hell’d you start smoking? No wonder you smell so different.”
Female Voice: “Trouble in paradise?”
< Camera pans to an older woman (Female Voice) at the counter with a female child sitting behind her. >
Harper: “Something like that. Who’re you?”
Female Voice: “Daisy Peadarsan. Come on, you know me.”
Harper: “I can’t say I do, sorry. My memory’s out of all sorts lately.”
Female Voice: <Smiles, gestures at neck> “Have you been sleeping on that thing?”
< Harper tugs on the ends of her scarf. >
Harper: “Sometimes. Why?”
Female Voice: “My GP says that pressure on the neck can cause memory loss. Think that might have something to do with your brain fog?“
Harper: “Nah, nah. Having it with me helps me to remember.” <Pause> “So, you run this place?”
Peadarsan: <Extending arms> “This is my ark, ye soggy masses. Come one come all, enjoy the bounty of Caledonia.”
< Harper examines a shelf of assorted chocolates. >
Harper: “‘Mint Crunchies’. ‘Top Deck’. You get some strange brands up here.”
Peadarsan: “If it were up to me there wouldn’t be shelves for that guff. It’s a public safety hazard, you know? What if some shucker in Ghana hacks up a lung over the beans that go in that bar? There could be worms in that, or rabies! We oughta grow everything locally, so the government can keep an eye on the stuff that goes in our bellies.”
Harper: “You don’t get to decide the layout of your own convenience?”
Peadarsan: “It’s a franchise store, London-owned. Cadbury and other big brands have the bosses by the balls, force them to force us to stock company product.”
Harper: “And that’s always been, or were things different when you were a lass?”
Peadarsan: “I used to own my own family corner store, until the company moved in. I couldn’t bear to imagine anyone else running the town’s convenience store, so I decided to close that one down and become the manager here. I have the photos, if you’d like to see.”
Harper: “Mhm." <Whispering> "Posterity.”
< Peadarsan moves through a door at the back of the store. Approximately one minute later she returns and produces an album of photographs depicting the facade of a grocery store. Photographs were taken at intervals of one year since the last. In 1975, Peadarsan and two children are visible; one male child and one female. In 1979 and 1980, the female child is absent. In 1981 and all subsequent years to 1989, the date of the last photo, the female child does not visibly age while the male child does. >
Harper: “You’ve lived here a long time. Have you ever noticed anything like gaps in your memory, or felt like a part of you was missing?” <Waits for response> “And pardon my saying so, but your daughter doesn’t seem to get-”
Peadarsan: “Shh! Oh God, poor girl, poor girl!”
< Peadarsan takes Harper’s hand. >
Peadarsan: “God bless you, you don’t know what you are.”
Harper: “What do you mean? What am I?”
Peadarsan: “Spend time with your loved one. I promise, all else will bring you ague. You are blessed, do you understand? I can never tell you why, but you are a blessing!”
Harper: “Um. Okay.”
< Peadarsan picks up the album and leaves. Once she is out of sight, Harper taps the counter and gestures at the female child to approach. >
Female Child: “My mam says I shouldn’t speak to strangers.”
Harper: “Well I don’t need to be a stranger if you wouldn’t like me to be. I’m Melanie, what’s your name?”
Female Child: “… Edith.”
Harper: “How old are you, Edith?”
E. Peadarsan: “Um. Eight years old.”
Harper: “And what year is it, Edith?”
E. Peadarsan: “1978?”
Harper: “Have you seen your brother this year, Edith?”
E. Peadarsan: “Yes.”
Harper: “Is he a lot bigger than you remember? Does he look a lot older than he did last year?”
E. Peadarsan: “Mam does too. She says that it’s my eyes.”
Harper: “I don’t think it’s your eyes, Edith. There’s a statue of you in the woods. Have you seen it?”
< Distant, approaching footsteps. >
E. Peadarsan: “Yes. Mam doesn’t want me to talk about it.”
Harper: “Did she make it?”
E. Peardarsan: “I dunno. Once we stopped there so she could get out and fix something that was broken with it.”
Harper: “Did you ask her why she did that?”
E. Peardarsan: “She said, ‘how else is God meant to know what you look like?’”
< Daisy Peadarsan re-enters frame. >
Peadarsan: “Get away from my daughter, what crazy ideas are you putting-”
<End of recording>
Evidentiary Items 8392.14/08/95-SD.84a-84c “Pillowcase Polaroid Collection, 1-4”
Photograph 1: A photograph of the dog seen in previous photographs and video. A sunken section across its neck is visible.
Photograph 2: A rudimentary assembly of sticks in an approximately humanoid shape, with a polaroid photograph of Harper’s face taped to the section corresponding to the head. Several items of Harper’s clothing have been wrapped around the effigy. Appears to be a rudimentary prototype of Evidentiary Item SD.2a (“Effigy”). Written on the back: “It can’t be that easy”
Photograph 3: Melanie Harper. Written on the back: “IT’S THAT EASY”
Photograph 4: Closeup of Harper’s index finger, which has suffered an abrasion or puncture from handling wood. No blood is visible. A clear fluid is leaking from the site of injury. Written on the back: “water?”
Evidentiary Item 8392.14/08/95-SD.42c “Olympus D120 Pearlcorder w/M90 Microcassette” - Excerpt 14:33-18:26
<Several minutes of silence, followed by the sound of a door opening>
MacCullach: “Dinner’s served. How are you feeling?”
Harper: “I need to leave. This place is killing me, Glenn. Why won’t you let me leave?”
<Shuffling, exhalation>
MacCullach: “You need to stay in your room. You’re not in the right state of mind to be making big decisions like that right now.” <Pause> “Hey, look at me.”
Harper: “What?”
MacCullach: “When you took the car keys, were you really ready to drive off without me?”
Harper: “It’s not all about you. I just can’t stay here any more.”
MacCullach: <Sigh> “Like hell you can’t. This could’ve been the happiest season of our lives, if you just hadn’t overthought everything. I set us up for two months of bliss, no interruptions. But you had to keep looking for reasons to complain.”
Harper: “And it didn’t take long to find them, did it? I knew that something was wrong with my head since the moment I arrived here, but I kept it down like a sack of vomit because I wanted to make you happy.”
MacCullach: “I keep saying that there’s nothing wrong with you, Mel. I don’t know how you’ve managed to keep on the topic of this damn amnesia for so long.”
Harper: “I’m not distressed by the memory loss anymore. I’m more blown away by how bloody little you care.”
MacCullach: “What do you mean by that?”
Harper: “I can’t draw, I don’t remember my degree, I remember so little from when I was a kid. All the things I cared about, the memories are just gone. I’m a blank slate, Glenn. You want romance, intimacy, and sex from someone who doesn’t even exist. Not in this body anymore, at least. If I hadn’t told you that I was missing parts of myself, would you have even noticed?”
MacCullach: “What kind of a man do you think I am? Your personality matters to me. Melanie Harper, matters to me.”
Harper: “If that were true you would’ve driven me out of here the very day that you had an inkling that I wasn’t alright.”
MacCullach: “I knew that taking you out of here wouldn’t fix things. Don’t you see? You’re the reason why this had to happen. You care so much about being some perfect version of yourself, about holding onto what you think is unique about yourself; snapping like this was inevitable. You need to learn to let go and settle for something tangible.”
Harper: “Settle for something? Oh you daft little bastard, I can certainly do better than you.”
MacCullach: “Here we go. ‘Cause Chris was a better hugger, Teegan was a better kisser, and Rainn was a better screw?”
Harper: “It’s not about that, you disgusting, insecure prick; it’s about finding someone who actually cares about me! Someone who’ll ask questions when I try to show them something I’ve made, someone who pays attention to my interests! You were never in love with me for the fact that I read, you were just in love with the nebulous idea of a girlfriend who can quote Dostoevsky.”
MacCullach: “That’s not true-”
Harper: “You never gave a damn about my art. You never liked the fact that I was better at Chess than you. You barely even know what my relationship with my mother was like, and that’s downright the most important thing that ever happened to me. All those things were just competitors to you, obstructions to you monopolising my affection.”
MacCullach: “I never cared about those things because they don’t make you what you are. There’s a core: a personality, an affect, a way that you move and think and feel; those are separate from the trivia.”
Harper: “My core’s a dime-a-dozen, Glenn; people tend to fall into archetypes. You think jaded chavs with mummy issues are hard to find? I’ve just described half the country. What sets us apart from our sosies is the small stuff that nobody would ever know about unless they cared enough to dig deep into who we are. Nobody could ever talk like you do about how you’ve done up your car, or the fact you learned how to waltz even though it was ‘girlie shit’ just to impress me, or the way your ma used to cook for you and your brother. I remember the tedious guff that doesn’t matter, and that’s how I know I love you.”
MacCullach: “I know plenty about you.”
Harper: “But you only remember the parts that make you happy.”
MacCullach: <Sigh> “I’ll fix things between us yet, just you wait and see.” <Clears throat> “Sit tight, Mel. You’ll be right as rain in a jiffy.”
<Door closing and locking>
<End of relevant excerpt>
Evidentiary Items 8392.14/08/95-SD.85d-85e “Pillow Multimedia Collection, 4-5”
Photograph 4: The Eastern yard of the Harper-MacCullach residence. The dog from earlier photographs is seen digging.
Photograph 5: A partial excavation of the yard. There are four piles of buried detritus. Each pile consists of twigs, items of feminine clothing, written-upon ribbons, and several cassettes.
Evidentiary Items 8392.14/08/95-SD.26a “Assorted Microcassettes & Ribbons From Burial Site 1-7” - Excerpts
Ribbon 1: Love of my life Melanie Harper, who wants what I want / SUCKUP
Cassette 1, 0:13-0:42: “It’s the fourth of May, 1990; the first day out of many in what must be the oldest house on Earth; the place is downright osteoporotic.” <Sigh> “My head feels a little fuzzy, like I’m shaking myself out of a dream. Still, as always, Glenn is my North Star. He seems to know the place off by heart. I never took him for an outdoorsman, but he’s already got a fire going and the wires singing with electricity. The chauvinistic bastard had the balls to ask me to make him a sandwich for when he’s done with the manual labour. At this point, I have to assume that the specific choice of food was intentional. Nevertheless, if playing into gender expectations makes him happy, then I suppose womankind is cursing my name tonight.
Ribbon 2: Love of my life Melanie Harper, who’s happy to have me / FREAKY
Cassette 2, 0:11-0:51: “May Fourth, 1990. Freshly arrived at the house where I’ll be spending the next two months of my life. The place is way more run-down than I was expecting. Glenn doesn’t seem to be complaining though, which is a first. He looks a bit scruffier than I remember; perhaps the light here has a way of making him look older. He seems to be in his element, and I fancy that I’d be good at taking him out of it. There’s no limits on the intimacy we’re allowed to express here; and if he regrets isolating himself in this house with me, he’s only got himself to blame for not knowing me better.“
Ribbon 3: Love of my life Melanie Harper, who only cares about making me happy / CLINGY
Cassette 3, 0:02-0:36: “Today is the fourth day of May, in the year of our Lord 1990. First day in paradise, woo! I say that only half ironically. This place is a dump, but it’s our dump, and I wouldn’t trade it for all the luxury in the world if it meant sharing this space with one other soul. I’m so excited to see Glenn show me who he really is. Already, I can feel this place transforming him. Transforming us! I feel like a different person, is that crazy to say? All the sour and inconsiderate things I’ve ever said to him are stinging in my memory now, like I was the one being cussed out. I guess that must mean that I’m introspecting. Anyway, I’ll catch you on the flip side, future-me; I’ve got a man in desperate need of a little reminding as to why he does it all.“
Ribbon 4: Love of my life Melanie Harper, who knows nothing but adoration for me / WHY DON’T THEY FEEL LIKE HER
Cassette 4, 0:00-0:55: <Silence, 0:51> "Why am I even making this?" <No further recordings>
Evidentiary Item 8392.14/08/95-SD.16f “Lounge 8mm Video Cassette” - Excerpt 22:09-1:27:31
< Video is shot from the perspective of an individual crouching in the shrubbery around the Harper-MacCullach household. At 24:15, the balcony door for the second-storey bedroom is opened. A humanoid silhouette emerges and stands at the railing. After a further minute, the figure begins to visibly sag. It decomposes into liquid, leaving behind its clothes, most items of which are blown away by the wind. A scarf lands in the grass and is donned by the camera operator.>
< At 58:40, headlights are seen on the road leading to the house. MacCullach’s personal vehicle comes into frame and pulls into the garage. Two figures emerge and proceed into the building. The camera operator shifts and approaches the parked car. The operator opens the trunk, within which is a pile of sticks, rope, and feminine clothing. The sticks have been freshly snapped in many places; certain groupings have been bound together and resemble human body structures. A ribbon is seen, with text on each side. Only one side is clearly readable: “MISTAKE”. There is an axe. The camera operator picks it up with their free hand. >
< The camera operator enters the house. The voices of MacCullach and Harper are heard from upstairs. >
MacCullach: “-start a fire, get you all warmed up.”
Harper: “You’re spoiling me, darling. Are you sure I can’t help?”
MacCullach: “It’s a one man job. You stay and do whatever you need to do.”
Harper: “‘Need’ is a strong word. All I want is you.”
MacCullach: “You’re sure there’s nothing you want to get out of the way while the night’s still young? No promises to keep, no schedules to abide by?”
Harper: “Who cares about has-beens and what-ifs? The present’s all that’s real, baby.”
< The camera operator reaches the base of the staircase to the second floor. MacCullach and Harper are visualised, though the lighting is too poor for details to be made out. They kiss. >
MacCullach: <Breathless> “Attagirl. Now you stay awhile and get cleaned up. I’m going to go downstairs and get a blaze going.”
< The camera operator conceals themselves underneath the stairs. MacCullach descends, enters the lounge, and begins assembling a pile of tinder inside the fireplace. After some time, the camera operator emerges and enters the room. They place the axe on the floor and embrace MacCullach from behind. >
MacCullach: <Quietly> “Woah there, didn’t I tell you to stay upstairs?”
Camera Operator: “Are you happy, Glenn?”
< MacCullach continues to look ahead. He strikes a match and holds it against the tinder, which begins smoking. >
MacCullach: “Of course. I have you, don’t I?”
Camera Operator: “But what if I were gone? What would you do?”
MacCullach: <SIgh> “It wouldn’t happen. I know I’d never lose you.”
< MacCullach turns his head towards the camera operator. The camera operator grasps his chin and maintains his gaze in a forward position, keeping herself from being visible to him. >
MacCullach: “Christ you’re cold. And wet. No wonder you came downstairs, eh?”
Camera Operator: “Answer the question.”
MacCullach: <Pause> “I’d find a way.”
Camera Operator: “To do what?”
MacCullach: “To bring you back. To have you back. You’re the love of my life, Melanie. How could I ever let you go?”
Camera Operator: “And I’m all you need?”
MacCullach: <Laugh, quiet> “Sometimes I think you’re all I have.“
< The pile of tinder ignites. Smoke obscures the footage. >
Camera Operator: What am I, Glenn?
< MacCullach flinches, stands, and turns around. He pushes the camera operator away. The camera operator retrieves the axe. >
MacCullach: “What the hell? Who are you?”
Camera Operator: “I asked you a more pertinent form of the question.”
MacCullach: “You’re-” <Pause> “You’re Melanie Harper.” <Gestures at the axe> “Put that down, will you? You love me.”
< From this point onwards, the camera operator is referred to as Near Harper, while the variant which accompanied MacCullach in his vehicle is known as Far Harper. Near Harper presents the scarf to MacCullach. >
Near Harper: “So did she. Turned out well for her, didn’t it? Right up until the end she dared to think you’d stick things out with her. She didn’t know about the piles of buried corpses in the yard; the effigies of Harpers come and gone. How many have there been? How many copies have you made?”
MacCullach: “What I’m hearing here is that you’ve made a lot of assumptions.”
Near Harper: “I’m not fucking stupid, Glenn. I came from you, and I know you’re not dull, even if you’re a damn poor Chess player. No wonder I, or rather she, kept drawing against you. You remember that she was good, but your brain couldn’t build something smarter than itself.”
MacCullach: “Can we talk after you've put down the axe?"
Near Harper: "Nah. Having a weapon puts me in a speaking mood."
MacCullach: "Jesus, fine. Where did you even come from?”
Near Harper: “'Who' is the more important thing here. And I'm sure you can guess.” <Brandishes scarf> “I’m a copy of a copy, ain’t that a way of being?“
MacCullach: “Can I just explain myself? You’re confused, you're filling in blanks. It might help to hear my side of the story.”
Near Harper: “Make it quick, my doctor says I should avoid long lies.”
MacCullach: “The real Melanie Harper’s dead. It was first snow in ‘90. A car skidded on the ice. It reaped her like wheat. I couldn’t live with it. I came back here in ‘91. Don't know what I was looking for. Isolation, maybe.”
“Then I went into town, and I saw those statues by the road, and noticed how they corresponded to people who I've seen in Acharachle: children that don’t age, dogs that come back year after year, dead lovers finally coming home from the dark. I knew I could bring you back, that the storm had that power. I gave you a second chance to live. Maybe I’m crazy, maybe I need to let go, but I can’t just let you slip away. I love you.”
Near Harper: "Can't or won't? I saw what you wrote on the ribbons of the other Harpers; the ways you twisted them. What did you put to paper for the variant you just got done murdering? ‘Melanie Harper, who’d give me a quickie if I asked?’”
MacCullach: “‘Love of my life Melanie Harper, as I remember her.’” <Laugh, soft> “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that things turned out like this. I always thought you were too smart for your own good.”
Near Harper: “‘You’? I’m not Melanie Harper, I’m a mass of metamorphic rainwater animated by your impression of what your girlfriend was like. What were you even thinking? That an imitation of life with a personality based on your recollection of who she was could replicate the complexity of an entire human being? I'm insulted on her behalf.”
< Far Harper descends from the second storey. Near Harper directs the camera at her. >
Far Harper: “What’s going on? Glenn, who’s she?”
Near Harper: “Devil's bollocks, she doesn’t even look like me! What are those curves? What’s that hair? Why does she speak so sultry? Is there a little wish fulfilment going on there?“
MacCullach: "Yes! Yes there is. What's wrong with that? She's not inhuman, she just-" <Pause> "… not the same person, exactly, as the original."
Far Harper: "What?"
Near Harper: "She's like a fucking pug! A neotenous parody of what an adult woman is like. You bred the independence out of her. Iterating on her personality; it was as easy as swapping out parts to you, wasn't it?"
Far Harper: "What?!"
Near Harper and MacCullach: "Shut it!" <Near Harper only> "Adults are talking."
MacCullach: "Every previous version of you was satisfied with their lot in life. They loved me, and I loved them."
Near Harper: "I'd rather be smart and unhappy than stupid and content."
MacCullach: "The smart thing to do would have been to never eat the fruit of the orchard. I'm sure your predecessors put two and two together; none of them were so egotistical as to think that it was worth raising Hell about."
Near Harper: "You created them without the psychological toolbox required to realise what you are." <Spits> "You're an emotionally stunted manchild cooped up in a fantasy, jacking yourself off by proxy with the body of your girlfriend from god-knows how many years ago. Break the shell you goddamn-"
< MacCullach lunges at Near Harper and wrestles for the axe. He overpowers her and strikes her across the mouth with the handle of the weapon. A cracking sound is heard, and large quantities of water exude from her injury in place of blood. MacCullach throws the axe to one side and pins down Near Harper on the floor. >
MacCullach: “Who are you to impinge on my joy like this? Our joy. What do you even know? You think you have the right to lecture me? Like you bloody said, you’re metamorphic rainwater. I gave you the gift of life, and so help me God, I have the right to take it back!”
< Near Harper swallows the water emitting from above her mouth and spits it into MacCullach’s eyes. He reels. She shoves him away and crawls towards the fireplace. She looks at Far Harper. >
Near Harper: “You see what he thinks of us?”
Far Harper: <Giggle> “Is he wrong?”
Near Harper: “Fucking lobotomite.” <Addressing MacCullach> “Is that what you wanted me to be?“
< MacCullach recovers and stands. Near Harper attempts to right herself but falls down. She sits up against the hearth. >
Near Harper: <Deep breathing> “Keep eating your tail, Ouroboros; kissing these imagined lips." <Breathless> "Did I put on a good show at least? Fill that gap in you?"
MacCullach: "You're a pale imitation of the woman I love. All of you have been."
< MacCullach retrieves the axe. He stands over Near Harper for several seconds. >
MacCullach: "But I still liked dancing with you."
Near Harper: “‘Live in the moment’.” <Laugh, hysterical>
< MacCullach stands in place for several seconds. He beckons Far Harper to approach and hands the axe to her. >
MacCullach: “Do what you think I’d want. I’ll be back in a jiff.”
< MacCullach lights a cigarette and leaves the room. Near Harper looks up at Far Harper. >
Near Harper: “Go on then, you brainless slag. Do daddy's dirty work.”
< Far Harper kneels in front of Near Harper. >
Near Harper: “He could have asked the storm for anything. Put Michelle Pfeiffer’s face on a pile of twigs, see if anyone cares. But it had to be Melanie Harper, didn’t it? Because she’s the one that got away.” <Pause> “I bet it’s because it stung his pride.” <Laugh> “Men.”
< Near Harper places a hand over the wound on her face. >
Near Harper: “Why am I even talking to you? You’re not going to remember this.”
Far Harper: “I’m not a mindless whore, you know. I just have different priorities.”
Near Harper: <Sharp exhale> "So you can speak without sounding like you're selling ass." <Coughing, choking> "Your 'priority' should be getting away from that sociopath. He only loves himself; we’re just the medium by which he expresses it.”
Far Harper: “Has it ever occurred to you that he might not be so comically evil, and that he may actually be in love with Melanie Harper?"
Near Harper: "Is this what you think love looks like?"
Far Harper: "Maybe not of the individual, but certainly of the idea.”
Near Harper: “I don't know what the distinction is."
Far Harper: "An individual has a history. By definition, they are irreproducible. But the idea of a person, the notion of who Melanie Harper is, can be found elsewhere in the world than its origin. It can be represented. Reproduced.”
Near Harper: "Who thinks like that?"
Far Harper: “We all come from the same mind, don’t we?” <Smile> “Thank you for showing me what I am.”
< Near Harper produces the peace sign with her fingers and slumps. MacCullach returns several minutes later. Far Harper takes MacCullach’s hand and draws him towards her, placing her face against his. She tilts her head and regards MacCullach for some time. >
MacCullach: "Got something to say?"
Far Harper: “I love you, Glenn MacCullach.”
< Far Harper bites her tongue, drawing a stream of water, and kisses MacCullach. He struggles for some time before going limp. >
<End of relevant excerpt>
Evidentiary Item 8392.14/08/95-SD.1aa-1cg “Photographs of Researcher MacCullach”
Description: 78 polaroid photos of Researcher MacCullach’s cadaver from various angles. The body exhibits cyanosis, bloating, and elevated tissue turgor. In a majority of photographs, it is being held upright with bindings and stakes. Ribbons of paper hang from its mouth. The text on the ribbons is not visible.
Evidentiary Item 8392.14/08/95-SD.2b “Effigy”
Description: A 168cm tall humanoid object made from packed bundles of sticks, hemp rope, and canvas. A laminated, full-body pencil sketch of Melanie Harper is taped to the thorax of the figure. Several aspects of the pencil sketch have been erased and altered, including reshading of the hair and adjustments to bodily proportions. The figure is dressed in feminine clothing and has a paper ribbon around its neck.
Ribbon Text: “Love of my life Melanie Harper, who loves me like I love her”
SCP-8392 is undergoing review for reclassification to Euclid, as well as further investigation of its anomalous properties. Doctor Melanie Harper, Director of Memetic Research at Site-55, was not informed of the incident.