I don't know about you, but I joined the Foundation to avoid the business world.
Item#: SCP-8406
Level3
Containment Class:
neutralized
Secondary Class:
{$secondary-class}
Disruption Class:
dark
Risk Class:
notice
- Close Archived Containment Procedures
SCP-8406 is to be located or restored as soon as possible. Until then, a temporary replacement is to be selected from site administration, and personnel are to be informed that the Director is off-site.
Special Containment Procedures: Following the dissipation of all residual Hume traces, SCP-8406 is considered neutralized, and no further containment procedures are required. SCP-8406's replacement is to assume all relevant responsibilities in full.
Site-152 staff at a social event. Photo taken by SCP-8406 (not pictured).
Description: SCP-8406 refers to Victoria Vale, who was employed as Site-152's Site Director from 03/12/2007 to 04/30/2007 following her predecessor's resignation. SCP-8406 possessed latent reality bending capabilities which were not known to the Foundation prior to her disappearance, and which are believed to have been activated by severe emotional distress.
Decaying Hume residue is present on this document and in her office, which is the current primary location of investigation. No further Hume traces are detected. The minor alterations which affect this document are no longer immutable; however, they are preserved to elucidate the nature of the anomaly. To aid in clarity, the original text may be revealed by interacting with each individual alteration.
Addendum 8406.1: Welcome Reception Party
Attendees: SCP-8406
Security Chief Tamina Leavitt
Medical Officer Zaid Faris
Miscellaneous Site-152 personnel
<BEGIN LOG>
The executive conference room is lined with conversing personnel and golden-framed portraits of past Site Directors. A black cloth drapes over the long table, upon which lies a wide assortment of hors d'oeuvres on silver platters. Trios of votive candles are scattered across the table's length.
SCP-8406 is seated by the door, looking down at several notecards in her lap and mumbling to herself. Taking a deep breath, she sets them down on her chair and stands.
SCP-8406: Excuse me, everyone?
Due to the noise, few people take notice. Next to her, Leavitt puts her fingers in her mouth and whistles loudly.
The room quiets. SCP-8406 straightens her back.
SCP-8406: Thanks, Tamina. I just wanted to give a short speech before everyone digs in, if that's fine.
She pauses briefly for any objections.
SCP-8406: Great. Thanks for attending, all of you. I invited you here because, as you hopefully have heard, I am your new Site Director.
Polite applause. SCP-8406 smiles weakly.
SCP-8406: Ah, i-it's nothing special, really. I'm still the same ordinary person I was a week ago. That being said, I am actually very excited to have this opportunity to lead our site because, you see, there's been a gaping hole in our site's culture that needs to be addressed. Let me explain.
She fidgets with her tie.
SCP-8406: I think that our culture can be described with three unfortunate words: detached, sterile, and corporate. I don't know about you, but I joined the Foundation to avoid the business world and all its mind-numbing office politics, and yet here I find myself working in an environment so stiff and uptight that we could give MC&D a run for their money. I mean sure, some of our top brass may be centuries old, but we aren't. Why do we have to be so stubbornly formal all the time?
She looks down.
SCP-8406: We don't… The truth is, I don't come to work every day eager to see my 'acquaintances' and 'coworkers'. I'm eager to see my friends, cheesy as it is, and given the… difficult nature of our work, I don't think that's too much to ask for.
SCP-8406: I want the same for all of you, too. I want you all to grow closer and, um, work with each other more, not against. I know that this change isn't going to happen overnight, which is why I'll have us start small. We'll be having new policies, social events, and… and more, and even if it takes a few years, by the end of it, you're going to… um, I mean, even though we're just another small site, we…
She pauses, her mouth moving silently.
SCP-8406: …one second.
SCP-8406 picks up her notecards and flips through them, her eyes darting rapidly. After a moment, she sets them down.
SCP-8406: Um, sorry about that. What I meant to say is, even if it takes a few years, you're going to learn to love this site and its people as much as I do. That's my final promise to you. Anyways, you've had enough of my rambling, I'm sure. Why don't we start with a toast?
She reaches out for her glass, then gasps, swiveling her head.
SCP-8406: Uh, I forgot to pour the… hold on.
She turns and kneels to grab a bottle of Japanese whiskey. It is uncorked but full. Her face burns red.
SCP-8406: W-Well, better late than never, right? Please take this time to think over what I just said.
Her hands shaking, SCP-8406 tips the bottle into Leavitt's wine glass. It fills to the brim and overflows quickly, splattering amber across the tablecloth.
SCP-8406: Oh, I'm so sorry—
Leavitt: It's fine.
Leavitt picks up a napkin and dabs at the spill.
SCP-8406's knuckles are white against the bottle. She shuffles to the next person and pours whiskey into their glass more slowly than before.
Faris: Victoria, why don't you take a break and we'll pour it ourselves?
SCP-8406: No, no, I insist. It's what I'm supposed to do. I have to set an example.
SCP-8406 repeats the process around the table. The room is silent other than the intermittent gurgle of whiskey and the occasional cough.
When she reaches Faris, she pours the remaining whiskey into his glass. He appears surprised.
Faris: I don't drink alcohol, remember?
Her eyes widen.
SCP-8406: Oh. Oh! Sorry, I was too focused on the… here, I'll dump that out for you.
Faris: You really don't need to—
SCP-8406 reaches for his glass and knocks it over, causing the whiskey to spill onto the candles, which burst into bright orange flames. Leavitt jumps up from her seat.
SCP-8406: No!
She reaches for the burning glass, but Faris slaps her hand back. SCP-8406's breaths come out in short, shallow gasps.
Faris: Leave it alo—
SCP-8406: Wait, I can fix this.
She grabs the hanging tablecloth and flips it up to smother the fire. Instead, other glasses nearby slip and spill their contents, and the tablecloth ignites.
Leavitt: Everyone, exit the room in an orderly fashion, please! You, grab the closest fire extinguisher!
SCP-8406 holds her palms down against the burning tablecloth until Faris yanks her away.
Faris: What are you—are you okay? Shoot, we gotta get you to the medical ward.
SCP-8406: I-I'm fine. Let me take care of it and we can keep the party going.
Faris: You've already burnt yourself! Just let someone else handle it.
SCP-8406 hesitates and looks up at the disappointment in his eyes. Her mouth opens, but any sound is drowned out by the loud roar of the fire sprinklers activating. In seconds, she is soaked, her hair hanging across and obscuring her face.
Leavitt moves around the table and puts a hand on her shoulder.
Leavitt: Let's move.
SCP-8406: I'm sorry. I only made it worse, didn't I?
Leavitt: Worry about it later. Zaid?
Faris: Just, uh, follow me.
SCP-8406 lets them lead her out of the room.
<END LOG>
SCP-8406 received superficial burn wounds which were treated without issue. No other personnel were injured; however, the welcome reception was not rescheduled.
Addendum 8406.2: Pizza Party Social
As part of her initiatives to foster stronger interpersonal connections between site personnel, SCP-8406 hosted various social events, such as anomaly bingo and weekly pizza parties.
<BEGIN LOG>
The Site-152 cafeteria is half-full. A pile of mostly empty boxes sits atop an unoccupied table; nearby, personnel mingle in close groups with paper plates and pizza slices.
SCP-8406 peeks around a corner, then walks in carrying another box of pizza.
SCP-8406: They said they were out of spinach, so I bought this from another place…
Nobody acknowledges her. She approaches the closest group of people, balancing the box in both hands.
SCP-8406: Hey, what are you guys talking about?
Researcher A: Oh, Director, hello. We were just discussing the ontokinetic applications of our latest project. Would you like to join us?
SCP-8406: Ah, no, I… that won't be necessary.
She backs away, places the box down at the unoccupied table, and sits.
Researcher B: We could've asked her to help us get approval.
Researcher A: I doubt she'll be willing to sway the Ethics Committee.
They continue their conversation without her.
SCP-8406 looks around the cafeteria. A moment later, a technician stands from a table nearby and moves towards her. She sucks in a breath, but they walk past her without a word and exit the room.
SCP-8406 folds her hands in her lap and sits quietly. The pizza remains untouched.
Eventually, two other people enter the room.
Leavitt: Vic?
SCP-8406 looks up.
Faris: Oh, is that spinach? And here I thought you'd forgotten about me.
Leavitt: Vic, are you sitting by yourself?
Leavitt taunts her. SCP-8406 looks back down, chewing on her lip.
SCP-8406: You don't have to rub it in.
Leavitt: Huh?
Faris: We waited for you to come back, but it didn't seem like you were going to, so we figured you'd returned to your office.
SCP-8406: I know, it's… the pizza took so long. They said my order was too small, so I offered to pay double and so they finally ended up making it.
Leavitt: Why the hell would you do that?
SCP-8406: I mean, it was rush hour, and I was holding up the line for a single box…
Faris: That sucks. They shouldn't have done that.
Leavitt: And you shouldn't have given those bastards—
Faris nudges her.
Faris: Want to eat together? I'm starving, and Tamina said she wanted to wait for you to get back, although she'll never admit it to your face.
Leavitt: I remember saying no such thing.
SCP-8406 wrings her hands, hesitating before she speaks.
SCP-8406: You don't have to pretend to care about me.
Faris: I… what?
SCP-8406: No no, it's okay. I'm not mad, but look, I already promised I'd help everyone out. You're not really getting anything out of this whole act anymore, so for both of our sakes, I'm saying you don't have to pretend anymore. I promise I'll still serve you, like a good leader does.
Leavitt glares at her.
Leavitt: Not everything's about you, asshole.
SCP-8406 shrinks, and the camera feed simultaneously contorts.
SCP-8406: I'm… sorry…
Faris pats Leavitt on the back.
Faris: That's… not a nice thing to say to us, Vic. We've known each other for a long time now, so aren't we friends?
Leavitt: Exactly, you think I care about your damn job ti—
Faris: Hush, you. Listen, what Tamina's trying to say is—
SCP-8406 jumps up, tears brimming in her eyes.
SCP-8406: I-I have to go.
Faris: Woah, woah, hold on. Look, she didn't mean it, you know how she is. That's just her way of saying she cares.
Leavitt: It's your party. Running away again?
Leavitt reaches out, but SCP-8406 pulls away.
SCP-8406: It's not that, my… my stomach hurts. Food poisoning, I think.
Faris: Oh, that's not good. Let me take you to my office, and we'll see if you're telling the truth.
SCP-8406 backs away.
SCP-8406: Please, I can't go with you. I just need some time alone. Um, in the bathroom, I mean.
Faris: …at least promise me you'll be back? We'll be waiting for you, alright?
SCP-8406: I… can't promise that.
She turns and exits hurriedly. Leavitt and Faris look at each other, then take their seats at the table. They wait, even after everyone else leaves.
SCP-8406 does not return.
<END LOG>
Addendum 8406.3: New Policy Incident
During the next month of her tenure, SCP-8406 implemented 17 new policies to, among other goals, facilitate cross-functional collaboration, support individual well-being, and improve employee engagement. Several of these have been replicated at other Foundation facilities, and all policies otherwise persist to this day, with one notable exception.
Policy: Recreational spaces are to be outfitted with music systems.
<BEGIN LOG>
The recreational area is a spacious, repurposed conference room with amenities including game tables, board games, and a jukebox. The room is solely occupied by Leavitt, who wears large, bulky headphones that are plugged into the jukebox, bobbing her head to an unheard rhythm.
The door opens quietly, and SCP-8406 pokes her head in.
SCP-8406: Oh!
Covering her mouth, she slowly backs out.
Leavitt: Where are you going?
SCP-8406 stops. Leavitt reaches up and unclasps her headphones.
SCP-8406: I don't mean to bother you.
Leavitt: I don't mind, moron. Come on in.
After a moment's hesitation, SCP-8406 gingerly steps into the room, rubbing her arm anxiously.
Leavitt: Where's Zaid?
SCP-8406: Uh, working overtime at his office. Some technician tripped over the train and sprained their ankle.
Leavitt: Always another idiot getting themself hurt.
SCP-8406: Right, yeah… so, what are you doing here? It's late, I mean, it seems like most people have already gone home, so I'm just surprised to find you here. Not that you have to justify yourself to me or anything, you're your own person and you can do what you want in your—
Leavitt: Vic.
SCP-8406: Y-Yes?
Leavitt: Calm down. I'm not gonna taze you. Why are you so nervous around me?
SCP-8406 takes a deep breath.
SCP-8406: Nervous? Me, I… I'm your Site Director. Is that how you should speak to me?
Leavitt swipes her hand up, making SCP-8406 flinch.
Leavitt: See? Look at that. I've known you for years, so why are you so jumpy?
SCP-8406 shuffles her feet, and Leavitt sighs.
Leavitt: Sorry, that was rude. If Zaid was here, he would've slapped me again. Hey, remember the last time he did that?
SCP-8406: You threatened to arrest our head of ontokinetic research.
Leavitt: Damn right I did! I don't care what he was the head of, he was giving you shit.
SCP-8406: You can't arrest someone for that.
Leavitt: He was ruining employee morale or something, yeah? It was bordering on harassment, and that's an actual rule-breaking offense. You would've agreed if it was anyone else but yourself.
SCP-8406 looks away. Leavitt clears her throat.
Leavitt: Anyways, you asked why I was here, right? I heard you got these new jukeboxes installed, so I figured I'd take a look. They're prime, actually. Real works of art.
SCP-8406: Oh. Yes. I thought they'd feel cozier than a… Bluetooth speaker and an iPad.
Leavitt: Good call. I didn't know you had such good taste.
SCP-8406: Th-Thanks. So then… why the headphones? The point, I mean, the reason I bought these jukeboxes was to play music to the whole room. Not that there's anyone else here but… you know.
Leavitt: Higher quality. The speakers are fine, but they still don't sound as good as a thousand-dollar pair like these.
SCP-8406: Is it really that different?
Leavitt: Of course. Haven't you ever tried on a pair of actually good headphones?
SCP-8406: I only have these earbuds that I've been using since, well, college.
Leavitt wrinkles her nose.
Leavitt: Wow. Okay, try these on. This is going to blow your mind.
SCP-8406: Oh, um, sure.
Leavitt: Actually, pick a song you like first. There's a ton of 'em stored locally on there. Preferably something with a good amount of bass.
SCP-8406: Okay, yeah, I can do that.
She moves up to the jukebox and hesitates, then begins pressing various buttons while looking at the screen. This continues for approximately thirty seconds.
Leavitt: You need some help with that?
SCP-8406: I, I got it handled.
The camera feed stutters.
Leavitt: Look, I know the thing's damn hard to use, but I got one of our tech whizzes to show me how it works. Move over and let me…
She trails off and holds the headphones up by her ear.
Leavitt: Huh. Looks like you got it working.
SCP-8406: I did? How?
Leavitt: Who knows. Let's see your taste in music, Vic.
As soon as she puts on the headphones, Leavitt freezes. Her smile fades away.
SCP-8406's face turns red and she looks at her feet.
SCP-8406: Is… is it that bad?
Leavitt does not respond. Her breathing slows to a stop, and tears begin to leak from the corners of her eyes. She does not blink.
SCP-8406: Um, hello? It's just country, I didn't think you'd…
SCP-8406 fiddles with the jukebox.
SCP-8406: Now playing… what is this? That's not the song I chose.
She looks at Leavitt, who appears to be wordlessly crying.
SCP-8406: Wh-What the…? Hey! What's going on?
SCP-8406 waves her hand in front of Leavitt's face, then reaches up and pulls the headphones off.
SCP-8406: You—
Leavitt immediately drops to her knees, gasping for air. SCP-8406 steps back in shock, the headphones clattering against the ground.
SCP-8406: Tamina? What's going on?
Leavitt shakes her head and stumbles to her feet, groaning.
Leavitt: God, my head…
She pauses, her mouth opening wide.
Leavitt: Aaaaaah…
SCP-8406 trembles as Leavitt repeatedly slaps her palms against her ears and shouts.
Leavitt: Hey! HEY! HELLO!
Various emotions flit across her face. Her eyes narrow, and she turns to SCP-8406, who stares back with undisguised fear.
Leavitt: Not to alarm you, Vic, but I can't hear shit anymore. Think you fucked up big-time with the music. Call Zaid for me? He'll know what to do.
In response, SCP-8406 collapses to the ground.
SCP-8406: I-I'm so… s-so sorry…
Security Chief: Shit, now you feel sorry? Hello? You hear me?
The Security Chief reaches out for her, but SCP-8406 recoils and moves away.
Security Chief: Look at me, Vic.
SCP-8406 does not respond. Her eyes are unfocused, and her whole body is shaking. She hugs her knees to her chest and pulls into herself, shrinking, as the camera feed begins to ripple and distort violently.
The Security Chief grumbles and abruptly lifts SCP-8406 into her arms. The distortions stop, and SCP-8406 looks up at the Chief, who makes her way towards the door.
Security Chief: We're going to medical. And it's all your fault.
<END LOG>
Both were admitted to the medical ward, where Leavitt was determined to have lost all hearing, and SCP-8406 was diagnosed with traumatic shock. SCP-8406's symptoms gradually subsided over the next several days, though Leavitt's hearing could not be restored.
It was later discovered that the jukebox had been an accidental transmission vector for SCP-████, an audiohazardous anomaly that mimics a deeply emotional song and induces permanent hearing loss in its listeners. The mechanism by which it infected the jukebox, which was network-isolated per standard security protocols, is unknown. After learning of these findings, SCP-8406 repealed her final policy and ordered for all relevant equipment to be decommissioned.
No new policies have been implemented since, nor have any additional public social events been held.
Addendum 8406.4: Birthday Party
<BEGIN LOG>
The time is 7 a.m. in a wide office room lined with motivational posters, which display quotes such as "Success is earned by the deserving" and "The higher you reach, the harder you fall."
SCP-8406 sits in the farthest corner, her head on the table. There is a single balloon behind her back and a crushed muffin in front of her.
Periodically, the video footage flickers.
The door opens and the Medical Officer enters, carrying several gift-wrapped boxes in his arms. He turns to her and stops.
Medical Officer: Oh, Director. You're actually here. I haven't seen you in days, I… just where have you been hiding?
SCP-8406's voice is muffled.
SCP-8406: Sorry. You didn't have to come.
Medical Officer: How else was I going to find you? I've asked everyone on site and not a soul ever knows where you are, just that the paperwork's still getting done. You won't answer my calls, you don't go to the cafeteria, you don't even show up to your own office anymore. I had Tamina stake outside for the entirety of yesterday, but she never caught a whiff of you, Director.
SCP-8406: I know. I'm sorry.
Medical Officer: You… you know? Then why haven't you—look, I'm sorry for being frustrated, but I'm trying to help you. You don't have to go through this alone, please, why can't you see that?
SCP-8406 does not respond. The Medical Officer closes his eyes, inhales deeply, and approaches her.
Medical Officer: Did you at least invite anyone else?
SCP-8406: It was just that one sticky note.
He sets the boxes down on the table.
Medical Officer: Right. Well, listen, I told Tamina to come too, but she didn't want to see you. It's a long story. Still, she told me to give you this.
He hands her a thin, gift-wrapped box with a blue bow on top. SCP-8406 lifts her head and looks at it in confusion.
SCP-8406: Why?
Medical Officer: To prove that we don't care, like we always have.
SCP-8406 hesitates, then hesitates some more.
Medical Officer: Want me to open it for you?
SCP-8406: …no, I'll do it.
She reaches out and gingerly tugs at the bow. The wrapping falls apart and she flinches. Inside is a blank picture frame, depicting nothing.
SCP-8406 stares at it.
SCP-8406: I see. Of course.
Medical Officer: Happy birthday. It's nostalgic, isn't it?
SCP-8406: Is it?
Medical Officer: We took that photo the day we first met. You must remember it.
SCP-8406 rubs her eyes hard, and the camera feed distorts. The picture now depicts three people huddled around a toy train pulling several open carriages, with SCP-8406 sobbing in the center.
SCP-8406: It's… a really ugly photo.
The Medical Officer smiles.
Medical Officer: I know, it's so oversaturated. I stopped using that camera a long time ago. And yet… this is one of those photos that I'll never throw away. What you've got here is the original print, framed and all, but we've each got our own copies at home to remind us of who you were.
SCP-8406 nods.
SCP-8406: I understand what you mean. Thank you.
Medical Officer: Keep it with you, okay? Whenever you're feeling down, remember that we're both here for you. We've always been.
He puts a hand on her shoulder, and she flinches.
SCP-8406: I, um… I would like to be alone now, please.
He pulls away.
Medical Officer: You… want me to leave? Then why invite me in the first place?
SCP-8406: I guess I thought it would make a difference, but… in the end, it didn't really matter. I'm sorry for wasting your time.
She places her head back on the desk.
The Medical Officer looks around the room and at the open door. He sighs, then sits down next to her, slumping his shoulders.
Medical Officer: You know, I haven't slept properly in days all because of you. Seeing you here, like this, it… I just wish there was something I could do.
SCP-8406 mumbles unintelligibly.
Medical Officer: Please, just talk to me. Tell me what's going on. You know I'm here for you.
SCP-8406 does not respond.
They remain seated for the next two hours. Occasionally, the Medical Officer attempts to initiate conversation, but SCP-8406 remains still other than small involuntary movements. For the last half hour, neither person speaks.
Eventually, the silence is broken by a ringtone. The Medical Officer glances at his phone and stands up. His expression is indiscernible.
Medical Officer: …see you never, Director.
He waits a moment for a response, then exits the room.
After several minutes, SCP-8406 lifts her head from the table. She is crying quietly. SCP-8406 picks up a fountain pen, glares at the photo, then scribbles and slashes down its center until her tears stop flowing and the pen runs dry of ink.
<END LOG>
Addendum 8406.5: Internal Emails
To: TEN.PiCS|251-ETIS#TEN.PiCS|251-ETIS
From: TEN.PiCS|elavv#TEN.PiCS|elavv
Subject: My Formal Resignation
It has been nearly two months since I promised to change Site-152. I thank you all for putting up with me during this time, though I've seen in your eyes and your whispers that you already know what I'm about to announce.
I can't be the Site Director. It was foolish and arrogant and naive of me to think otherwise. All I have succeeded in doing is making things worse than I found them.
I hereby resign. Maybe this is the only right choice I'll have ever made.
I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused.
-V. Vale
To: TEN.PiCS|ttivaelt#TEN.PiCS|ttivaelt
From: TEN.PiCS|elavv#TEN.PiCS|elavv
Subject: i'm sorry
This is long overdue, but if I don't send this to you now, I'll never get the chance to again.
Tamina, I'm so, so sorry. It's all my fault. If you never knew me, you'd still be able to listen to songs.
I know this is selfish, but if you're willing to tolerate me one last time, please come send me off tomorrow, 5:00 am, at my old office. After that, I won't bother you again.
Yours,
Vic
Addendum 8406.6: Resignation
<BEGIN LOG>
The office is small, and the lights are off. A bleeding oil painting is framed on the wall above a dead potted plant.
SCP-8406 is sitting in a plastic chair facing the door. Her hands are placed neatly on her lap, and an untouched sugar cookie lies on her desk.
The hour hand strikes 5. The clock ticks, and minutes pass by, but the door remains closed.
SCP-8406: Oh.
Her voice cracks.
SCP-8406: So that's how it is.
She brings her knees into her chest and squeezes tightly, curling into a ball. Simultaneously, the camera feed experiences an increasing quantity of geometric distortions and severe visual artifacting. The chair creaks as SCP-8406 shrinks smaller, and smaller, and smaller into herself.
After 48 seconds, SCP-8406 disappears entirely, and visual distortions cease.
No further activity is recorded until twelve hours later, when Leavitt and Faris discover the empty room and report the anomaly.
<END LOG>