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This is a component to make the mobile sidebar button active on desktop-size screen.
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If used with a theme, it's recommended to put said theme after this [[include]].
(Use this version by Woedenaz if you're using Black Highlighter)
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[[/iftags]]
Symbols found near SCP-8609's location of discovery, utilized in its containment.
Item #: SCP-8609
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-8609 is currently contained within a standard humanoid containment cell in Deepwell Beta of Site-35. The walls of SCP-8609's cell are lined with various ritualistic symbols designed to suppress thaumaturgic capabilities. These symbols are to be inspected for potential damage on a. bi-weekly basis. Following Incident-2075-Omega, it is routine to fit all containment cells holding entities relating to GoI-028 ("The Sarkic Cults") with remote-activated deadlock mechanisms, as well as a mechanism to flood the chamber with chlorine trifluoride. Matching lock-down features have been applied to the surrounding sector.
Because of its consistent record of cooperation with Foundation personnel, SCP-8609 is permitted occasionally to leave its chamber to collect its own meals and partake in limited socialization. When outside its containment chamber, SCP-8609 must be accompanied by (at least) two guards armed with incendiary weapons at all times.
Description: SCP-8609 appears to be an adolescent male of eastern-European descent. SCP-8609 has displayed a fluency in contemporary English, as well as an unidentified language, believed to be a precursor to modern Khakas. SCP-8609 identifies itself as "Euris" and claims to have once studied as an apprentice in the "House of Taurrak" during the Late Sarkic Imperial Era. According to SCP-8609, it was able to survive into the modern day through the use of an ancient Sarkic technique, holding its body inside an organic stasis pod for over two millennia.
SCP-8609 has displayed a range of carnomantic capabilities, capable of temporarily modifying the structure of both its own body and the bodies of other living beings, albeit with much more difficulty. SCP-8609 claims to have learned these abilities under the tutelage of a "Karcist Hadlan" and states they require a high amount of focus and effort to carry out.
SCP-8609 has displayed a highly personable demeanor, happily conversing with Foundation personnel. However, despite its typical compliance, SCP-8609 has presented a strong unwillingness to discuss the exact series of events that lead to it being placed within stasis.
Addendum 0000.1: Discovery
Pòliǔ, Northern Xinjiang, China.
Foundation agents were first alerted to the potential of anomalous activity following reports of a sudden, drastic increase in bad dreams experienced by the residents of the village of Pòliǔ (魄柳) in Northern Xinjiang, China in March of 2021. Many attributed these dreams to the work of "evil spirits" inhabiting the nearby mountains, however these were initially dismissed as mass hysteria due to the ongoing Covid-19 epidemic.
In the following weeks, reports continued to grow in severity, with flayed animal carcasses being found scattered across the surrounding wilderness. MTF Epsilon-6 ("Village Idiots") were soon dispatched to investigate, with their investigations eventually leading them to a nearby cave system, wherein they discovered SCP-8609. A partial transcript of their encounter can be read below.
Access Granted
[BEGIN LOG]
(E-6 Jensen, E-6 George and E-6 Martins enter into a large cavern area.)
E-6 Martins: (Sniffing) God, do you smell that?
E-6 Jensen: Ugh, it's like my uncle's butcher shop on steroids.
E-6 Martins: Right? Like my nose is genuinely tingling.
E-6 George : Guys, I think it's coming from that.
(E-6 George points his flashlight in front of the trio, revealing a fleshy, bulb-like organism rooted in the ground meters away. The bulb is split into several segments, which are open and spread out across the ground as if flowering. Vein-like structures along each segment pulse and leak an unknown translucent fluid.)
E-6 Martins: Dear lord, what the hell is-
E-6 George : Carnomancy. I read about it in the old reports. If there's a Sarkite in here, then…
E-6 Jensen: What was that?
(A flash of movement can be seen off to the side. The team point their flashlights towards the far cavern wall, revealing a crouched humanoid figure (SCP-8609). SCP-8609 quickly rises to its feet; what appear to be animal pelts are loosely draped over its body, with patches of blood and dried mud across its skin.)
E-6 Martins: Hey, don't move!
(The team point their firearms at SCP-8609. It does not respond verbally, instead backing up against the wall and raising its hands, as if in surrender.)
E-6 Jensen: You two, don't let him out of your sight. (Into radio) Hey Command, we think we caught our ghost. Send in the containment team, and bring the big guns just to be safe, because we don't know just what this guy is-
(E-6 Jensen's words are suddenly cut off by loud gagging sounds. He swaps confused glances with each of his teammates, before continuing to wretch. Seemingly in an attempt to take in more oxygen, he stretches his mouth wide open, revealing a heavily swollen, discolored tongue.)
E-6 George: Jensen?! Hey, don't worry, we're here!
E-6 Martins: Dear god, what's happening to him? (Turns to SCP-8609) What are you doing to him?!
(SCP-8609 simply gives an apologetic look in return, remaining huddled against the wall.)
(Choking sounds intensify as E-6 Jensen begins to paw at his own mouth, eventually collapsing to his knees. As his tongue continues to grow, blood begins to pour from his mouth, and the sound of tearing flesh can be heard. With one final push, a large worm-like creature is ejected from E-6 Jensen's mouth, knocking out several teeth in the process.)
E-6 Martins: What the hell?
(The creature writhes erratically on the ground for a few seconds, before beginning to crawl towards SCP-8609. E-6 Martins aims his firearm at it, however E-6 George gestures for him not to. SCP-8609 crouches down, allowing the creature to slither into its hands. SCP-8609 proceeds to swallow the creature, however this seems to take a great deal of effort. SCP-8609 spends several moments gagging and sputtering as the creature makes its way down its throat. Once it is fully swallowed, SCP-8609 spends another minute coughing and wheezing on the ground, before standing back up.)
SCP-8609: (Clears throat) Sorry about that. So, where were we?
[END LOG]
Notes: Immediately following this interaction, E-6 George threw a cannister of sleeping gas at SCP-8609, knocking it unconscious.
Following its sedation, SCP-8609 was secured and transferred to Site-35. Medical analysis of SCP-8609's body showed no physical difference to baseline humans; however, genetic testing revealed it to only be an 87% match. Examination of samples taken from the bulb-like structure revealed it to be a 100% genetic match for SCP-8609. The translucent liquid leaking out of it was determined to be a mixture of plasma and simple proteins, resembling amniotic fluid.
The first interview with SCP-8609 was held two days after initial containment, a full transcript of which can be read below.
Close
Interviewed: SCP-8609
Interviewer: Dr. Richard Daedalus, AEED
Foreword: As at this point SCP-8609 has not been assigned a designated containment chamber, this interview was held in a standard meeting room in Site-35's Bureaucratic Wing. SCP-8609 was held in a straight jacket, secured to a metal trolly, with thaumaturgy-blocking runes carved across it.
[Begin Log]
Dr. Daedalus: Good afternoon, my name is Doctor Richard Daedalus and I will be in charge of taking care of you for your time here at the Foundation. How are you feeling?
SCP-8609: Um, I'm feeling alright. As well as I can I suppose.
Dr. Daedalus: Okay, good to hear. Could you please state your name and age for the record?
SCP-8609: Uh yeah, okay. My name is Euris, and I am… fifteen? Is that a number?
Dr. Daedalus: Yep, that's all good. I must say, you seem to have a rather interesting grasp of the English language.
SCP-8609: Yes, well, Lexical Transfer is a bit of a complex spell. I've never used it outside of a train hall before, so I'm still getting used to the feeling of having an alien language in my head.
Dr. Daedalus: And this "Lexical Transfer" would be the 'turning a tongue into a giant maggot' trick you used on one of our task force members, yes?
SCP-8609: Yeah… It's a practical spell. They taught it to all the young men back where I'm from, to help them in the war against Punt. I don't think it was designed with pleasure in mind, on either end.
Dr. Daedalus: He definitely seemed a little disturbed, but honestly I think he was more surprised at the fact it grew back.
SCP-8609: Well, I think the idea is that you use it for, like, interrogations and things like that. Like, it's so unpleasant that, by the time the spell kicks in, the other person is already willing to spill all their secrets. Luckily, I never had to use it. My status as an apprentice protected me from conscription.
Dr. Daedalus: Right, that actually brings us to the main topic I wanted to discuss with you. You made some… interesting claims during your examination yesterday, and I wanted to give you the opportunity to properly explain yourself. So please, enlighten me, who exactly are you?
SCP-8609: (Deep breath) Okay, my name is Euris. I am… was an apprentice in the House of Taurrak. Specifically, I was studying under Karcist Hadlan, the House Master. Although (chuckles), to this day I'll never be able to figure out why he chose me. Anyway, something… something happened, and I got… sealed away in that pod. Next thing I knew, I had woken up in that cave.
Dr. Daedalus: Right, okay, and that's all well and good. It's just that unfortunately, the Foundation currently sees no reason to believe any of this. Whilst it's true your genetic markers don't quite match up with any modern ethnic group, there are ways to rewrite your own DNA. And even though your thaumaturgic signature is certainly more archaic compared to other carnomancers we've encountered, that doesn't necessarily mean-
SCP-8609: (Surprised) There are other Nälkä? I'm not alone?
Dr. Daedalus: The point is, if you want us to take your claims seriously, then you're going to have to give us a bit more to work with. Maybe you could start by telling me why exactly you were in that pod to begin with?
SCP-8609: (Choked up) I'd rather not.
Dr. Daedalus: That's fine, I think we've got everything we need for now. What's going to happen now is you'll be taken to a temporary containment chamber, and one of my colleagues will handle making sure you get the right room. Now, I know this is probably a lot to take in, so before we close the interview, do you have any requests or maybe questions you want to ask?
SCP-8609: Oh, well yes, actually. I was wondering if you guys had any idea of how long I was sealed away?
Dr. Daedalus: Well, if your stories are indeed accurate, then you would have had to have been in stasis for about two and a half thousand years, give or take a couple centuries.
SCP-8609: (Noticeably shocked) Archons… two thousand years…
Dr. Daedalus: Anything else?
SCP-8609: No, no that's it. Thank you.
[End Log]
Closing Statement: Whilst his story is definitely farfetched, his responses all seemed very genuine, and every lie-detecting technique we have came back pretty conclusive. If nothing else, this young man truly believes everything he has said. - Dr. Daedalus
Addendum 0000.2: Collecting Information
On 11/28/21, Head Parahistorian at Site-35, Dr. Cilla Black, sent out an appeal to the site director:
I have been keeping tabs on SCP-8609's containment since he first arrived six months ago, and to be frank, I believe we are royally shooting ourselves in the foot by just putting him in that box and forgetting about him.
The Foundation has been grappling with the Sarkites since its inception, and the most we've gotten to show for it is a destroyed site and a couple mangled D-Class. You've all seen the video, read the examination results; regardless of whether anything he's said so far is true, he came out of that egg. If there's even a chance that this kid is who he says he is, this could be the breakthrough we've been waiting for.
If you ask me, I say it's worth the risk.
Dr. Cilla Black
Site-35 Head Parahistorian
After a vote, it was decided that SCP-8609 would be questioned on a variety of topics. Its answers would then be compared to pre-existing knowledge. Any new information found to be true would both increase the Foundation's understanding of Sarkicism and anomalous history as a whole, whilst also legitimizing SCP-8609's claims regarding its origin. Various excerpts can be read below.
Close
Well, that's a bit of a loaded subject. Being Nälkän has been my whole life, I…
Let's wind things back a bit. I wasn't always an apprentice. I spent the first few years of my life in this little orphanage on the outskirts of Á-shirráz. I assume I must have had parents, or at least a mother at some point, but I never knew them. That's just the way it was, you know? Selective Heritage they called it; poorer families would have their babies tested for magical aptitude, if it wasn't at an acceptable level, they got rid of them. I'm just lucky they didn't throw me in a lake.
At the end of the day, that's all being Nälkän is. Survival of the fittest. I was the smallest, so the other kids always targeted me; pushed me around, took my food, purposely did incorrect rituals to kill my pets, that kind of thing. It was definitely tough growing up there, but you know what? Looking back, it may have actually been a blessing.
One day, when I was about eight or nine, I made a mistake during our evening scripture recital. Maybe I would have had an easier time reading if they were willing to spend the money to update their scrolls, instead of reusing the same fifty-year-old parchment, but I digress. The other kids felt the only fitting punishment was to lock me outside, in the middle of the night. We weren't quite in the snowy season just yet, but up in the hills it still easily dropped below freezing. There's no way I would have survived the night.
Then suddenly, just as I was beginning to lose consciousness, I felt something warm wrap around me. It was like a… shawl or a cloak of some kind. I remember, the last thing I saw before blacking out was Hadlan's eyes shining in the moonlight. He carried me to the monastery that night. Looking back, I don't think he told the people at the orphanage that he was taking me. Though it's not like they would have cared, a missing kid just meant one less mouth to feed.
I never did find out what he was doing out there so late at night, but the next morning I woke up in the monastery. From then on, really everything changed. Well, maybe not everything. Some of the other apprentices used to pick on me on a bit, but that's understandable. Can you imagine spending your whole life being disciplined to be a part of this elite order of high magicians, just to find out that this scrawny kid they found out in the middle of nowhere, who can't even pull off a simple transmutation, is now suddenly getting special treatment from the Head Karcist? So yeah, I don't blame them for being a bit harsh at times.
Oh, I know! On the eleventh full moon of each year, they used to throw this big celebration in the courtyard. Something about the flowing of mana and showing our gratitude for the past year's harvest; anyway, they went all out. They'd raise this big…fleshy…thing right in the middle of the courtyard, covered in lights and talismans; wishes for the spring to come. And they'd make instruments out of bones and tendons, and there'd be dancing and food and gifts.
I still remember that first year. I had only been at the monastery for a couple of weeks, so I didn't really know anyone. I was just kind of standing by the wall. Then suddenly this one kid, Apher, just runs upto me and grabs my arm. No words. He just pulls me over to where all the other apprentices are, and they give me this little coin wrapped in parchment. It was a silver brooch, with the seal of House Taurrak carved into it. Sort of a late welcoming gift. One of the older kids helped me clip it on to my tunic, and then someone started playing this one song on the drums and we all just danced and sang and laughed together. I remember looking up at one point, and seeing Hadlan watching us from a balcony. The lighting wasn’t great, but I could tell he was smiling.
Things wouldn't always be easy between all of us, but whenever things got rough, I always looked back on that night. Because for the first time in my life, I finally belonged somewhere. I had a… a family.
That's what being Nälkän is to me. I know there are a lot of people who think of what we did as monstrous, and maybe they're right. But it was the only home I ever knew, and I loved it with all my soul.
Close
"Yaldabaoth"?! Oh, you are so lucky the enforcers at the monastery aren't around to hear you say that. They would have ripped your head off and fed it to the hounds, fully conscious. "Važjuma" is the proper name. Yaldabaoth was more of a slang term, used by the exiles and the deserters.
Admittedly, I could never quite wrap my head around that part of the faith. In lessons they always told us that Važjuma was our ultimate enemy, and that it was our eternal mission as Nälkäns to destroy it at all costs. However, as our creator and the source of our power, we were also meant to respect her in a way? (Chuckles) "Her." Even that! They always said she was less of a figure, more of a metaphysical embodiment of the cycle of life, so she was technically both genders simultaneously, acting as as a counterpart to the machine god, who had no gender.
Can you see why it got confusing? I think most people just assigned different genders to them themselves, it just made everything a lot easier.
If I remember correctly, Važjuma was actually originally a Daevic name. They knew about her, but she was never officially part of their pantheon. Rather, a formless, feral beast born out of the void. And the Archons were her helpers, minor demons with no will of their own. That's kind of how it was for most cultures, I think. I never really left the empire myself, but you'd hear stories about people who visited the lands of the dragon men in the east, or the worshipers of the horned god in the south. They were all aware of her, but none of them really held her to the same reverence that we did. All either viewed her as some lesser titan, or equated her with their own gods.
I remember, back at the orphanage there was this old chalk statue of her out in the courtyard. An uneven lion's head on a long, bumpy worm body, with too-thin insect legs jutting out at odd angles. I hated that thing. Refused to even walk past it by myself, much to the delight of my tormentors. I never had an issue with the intricately-made carvings at the monastery, but something about those empty eyes and lob-sided snarl shook me to my very core. Maybe it was just because I was a kid, but I swear to the Archons, in the dead of night, when the winter wind blew, you could hear it whispering.
Close
Admittedly I was never really super into the lore, but I'll try to remember what I can.
The legend was that he was the illegitimate son of a Daeva queen. Back then there wasn't really much demand for princes, let alone half-breeds, so they just pawned him off to be the servant of some sorceress. And it was said that one night, after a particularly rough beating from the royal guards, he was visited by a… spirit of some kind, a messenger of Važjuma, who gave him the knife he used to kill his master. The first act of the Revolution.
People's opinions on him always seemed pretty mixed. All the elders hated him. The sisters at the monastery called him a traitor, said he abandoned his convictions and got "lost in the power The Devourer provided him." However, as you can imagine there were some people that held quite a bit of reverence for him. I mean he was the father of the Nälkä faith after all.
Uh let's see… After he seized control of Adytum, he selected his four most loyal followers and appointed them as his Klavigar. With their help, Ion was able to spread his reach even further, and fast too. The Daeva tried to fight them at first, but they were already so divided, even before the slave revolts. It was easier to just put their recourses into maintaining what they still had. Plus, any other nations in that part of the world weren't exactly leaping to start any wars with they guy who just wiped out their greatest enemies either.
Come to think of it, I don't think the Nälkä really faced any direct competition until… nevermind.
Anyway, after that, no-one knows what happened to him. He just kind of disappeared from the records. Some thought he was killed in combat, others reckoned he had lost himself in Važjuma completely, shedding his physical form to be absorbed into her. It's all just speculation of course. Who knows, maybe he's still out there somewhere.
Close
Oof, yeah. "The Old Masters," that's what they used to call them. They had already died out long before I was born, but sometimes the elders used to tell us stories from when they were growing up during the Flesh Wars.
They said that the Daeva were closer to faeries than anything else. They looked and acted human, but on the inside they were beasts with black hearts. They convened with dark spirits and manipulated nature to do their bidding. And even though they ate flesh and did blood rituals like us, it wasn't out of any kind of respect for the physical form. It was more of a power thing, a way of showing their dominion over life and death. Which, as as you can imagine, was considered pretty blasphemous.
I remember this one sister, Eldah, she told us this story from when she was a little girl. Her family were poor; lived on this little farm right on the outskirts of Kurst. And every month a convoy would come to collect everything they had produced. They didn't get paid, obviously. Their payment was staying out of the city's slave arenas.
But one day, the convoy didn't show up. Understandably, her family started to get nervous; if there had been an error and they were marked as not giving over their shares, then they could all be arrested. They tried everything hey could, even directly reaching out to the region matriarch, but still nothing.
They'd wake up every morning after that, just waiting for one of their tree monsters to come and level their farm to he ground, but no-one ever showed up. In fact, people had stopped coming out of the city altogether. It was like they were hiding from something, or rather… preparing.
Then not long after, the whole family is suddenly shaken awake in the middle of the night. A deep rumbling sound echoed through the hills, one that only got louder as the night went on. It had just reached daybreak when they finally saw them. Out on the horizon, an army greater than anything they had ever seen before. Men and women bound in ceremonial bandages, encased in armor crafted from the bones of terrible beasts. Warrior mages in crimson and purple robes, warping the world around them as they walked. Snarling abominations (her words, not mine) and lumbering titans that cracked the earth with each step.
War-horns began to blare from inside the city, and droves of soldiers poured out from every opening in its walls. Men clad in cloth and metal, clutching spears and swords and maces. Most walked, but some rode on the backs of large furry creatures, with giant horns poking out their heads. Alongside them walked towering warriors made of wood, as well as smaller creatures, made of rock and weeds.
Her parents raced to grab them, shield them, do something, but there was nothing they could have done. The battle was upon them in moments. Metal met bone, teeth met flesh. All it took was for one siege weapon to fire a little too close to their home, and that was it. The walls collapsed in around them as a giant chasm opened up right below their feet. Her entire family was crushed, but by some twist of fate she was pulled into a nearby air pocket, saving her life. However she refused to call it a miracle.
For twenty days she huddled alone in the dark, forced to listen to the carnage going on above her, surviving by licking the moisture off the walls and picking at the bodies of her siblings. She never expected to make it. Figured it was only matter of time until someone, or something, found her down there. But one day, she woke up and everything was silent. It took ages for her to finally climb her way out of the cavern, but when she did…
She said no words could ever truly do justice to the nightmare she saw out there. The farm, the land her family had lived on for generations was gone. In it's place was a vial tapestry of death and suffering. Men and monsters alike laid slain in giant piles. Their bodies so maimed it was impossible to tell what was what. In the distance she could see the city, which at that point was little more than a pile of rubble. Towers of smoke billowed up from its center, with torrents of blood dripping down each wall.
For a long time she just… stood there. It makes sense. I mean, she was just a child. How could she possibly comprehend what she had been through?
But eventually, she noticed a flash of movement in the stillness. In the near distance there was a figure; they were tall and totally covered, head to toe, in long ceremonial robes. She thought they were red at first, but on closer inspection she realized they were actually originally white. They had just been completely soaked through with blood. Beside the hooded figure was a young girl, not much older than herself. She had shaggy hair, with a torn brown tunic draped over her. Chains cuffed to her wrists and ankles dragged along the ground behind them.
They walked silently, side-by-side, paying no attention to the carnage that surrounded them. Eventually they noticed Eldah, and for a moment they each just started at each other. Then the hooded figure nodded at her, and they both just faded away, like they were never there at all.
So… you can just take all that however you want.
On 2/13/22, Site-55 was raided by the "Sons of the Clockwork Heart," a militia group with ties to GoI-004 ("The Church of the Broken God"), resulting in 24 casualties and the loss of 3 anomalous items. Upon review, it was determined that the group had utilized notably archaic thaumaturgic techniques, rendering traditional defense measures completely ineffective.
After heavy discussion, it was decided that SCP-8609 would be consulted in hopes of potentially gathering information on how to affectively combat the group. The complete interview log has been provided below.
Close
Interviewed: SCP-8609
Interviewer: Dr. Richard Daedalus
Foreword: This interview was conducted within SCP-8609's containment chamber. As the interview was conducted during lunch period, SCP-8609 was provided with a plastic tray of food, as well as blunt eating utensils made from rubber. SCP-8609's feet were shackled to the ground for the duration of the interview.
[Begin Log]
SCP-8609: Hello, Dr. Daedalus! This is a welcome surprise.
Dr. Daedalus: Hello, SCP-8609. Sorry to interrupt you while you're eating.
SCP-8609: Oh no, not at all. I'm nearly finished anyway.
Dr. Daedalus: (Sniffing) That smells good, what is that?
SCP-8609: This? It's ahk-huraġan, an old dish from my homeland. It's basically braised lamb on a bed of oats.
Dr. Daedalus: Hm, I wasn't aware our chef took requests.
SCP-8609: Oh, you just need to know the right way to ask. So, what do you need?
Dr. Daedalus: Right, well just yesterday one of our sites was raided by a small team of armed mercenaries.
(Dr. Daedalus begins to pull papers from a file and lay them out on the table. Each paper has a unique symbol drawn on it.)
Dr. Daedalus: Now, usually we'd have no problem fighting off any would-be threats, however this group was able to completely surpass all of our security using a very particular brand of magic. We were hoping you might be able to shed some light on it all.
(SCP-8609 looks down to inspect the papers, it's entire body tenses suddenly and its fork falls to the floor.)
SCP-8609: Where did you get these?
Dr. Daedalus: We found them carved into the walls near where they breached. They reckon they're what allowed the crew to slip through our defenses undetected. You recognize them?
SCP-8609: (Nods) They're M… Mekhanite symbols.
Dr. Daedalus: Is there anything you can tell us about these symbols? Function, history, anything at all?
SCP-8609: Um, y-yeah.
(SCP-8609 taps a paper depicting a sharp object, overlapping a series of concentric rings).
SCP-8609: That's the Spear of Arun-Gurr. He was a feared commander during the Flesh Wars. The teachers at the monastery said it was his brilliant strategy that allowed the Mekhanite armies to banish Klavigar Orok deep into the earth.
Dr. Daedalus: Did the teachers have any idea of how magic like this worked exactly?
SCP-8609: Well… like most magic, it relied on life-force. So you'd need to combine a piece of your own essence, like the blood or plasma, with something representing Mekhane. Oil, or metal shavings. But, they never told us how to activate them. That would have been pretty frowned upon.
Dr. Daedalus: Okay, fair enough. Is there anything else here you recognize.
SCP-8609: Um, maybe a couple, but it's a bit… blurry. I just… I don't understand. How could they know how to use magic like this? I figured, surely if the Nälkä were still around, then the Mekhanites wouldn't, couldn't…
Dr. Daedalus: Maybe not the Mekhanites exactly, but a few splinter groups were able to persits into the modern day.
SCP-8609: I-I see… and here I thought… They survived. (Mumbling) Tabii kin yaptal… (laughter) Well, you have to give it to them. If there's one thing they are, it's crafty.
[End Log]
Closing Statement: A very interesting reaction from SCP-8609. I think it’s possible we may be seeing something deeper than the typical general distaste for the Mekhanites seen in most Sarkites. That instant change in demeanour almost seemed more akin to a trauma response than simple shock. Will have to continue monitoring any other changes in SCP-0000’s behaviour going forward. - Dr. Daedalus
Addendum 0000.3: Incident Log
In the weeks following the aforementioned interview, SCP-8609 displayed a noticeable shift in demeanor. It began to act more closed-off and introverted, often ignoring personnel that tried to speak to it. When alone in its containment chamber, SCP-8609 often appeared agitated, pacing and muttering to itself. It also began to report frequent night terrors.
On 3/9/22, SCP-8609 requested to speak with Dr. Daedalus, claiming it had vital information to share regarding it's origins. An interview was arranged immediately.
Close
Involved: SCP-8609, Dr. Richard Daedalus, Bradford Long, Jeremiah Oakwood
Foreword: On 3/9/22, SCP-8609 requested to speak privately with Dr. Daedalus, claiming it had vital information to share regarding its origins. As its containment chamber was undergoing a routine inspection, an interview was arranged within a standard meeting room in Site-35's Bureaucratic Wing. As SCP-8609's assigned security personnel, Long and Oakwood were each stationed outside the room. SCP-8609 was not restrained prior to the interview.
[Begin Log]
Dr. Daedalus: Good morning, SCP-8609. I must say it's quite a surprise to be called here so suddenly. I understand there's something you want to share with me?
SCP-8609: Umm, yeah, yes. I… I guess I just figured it was about time.
Dr. Daedalus: That's great to hear. Of course, we don't want your to feel pressured at all. Just share whatever you feel comfortable with.
SCP-8609: I appreciate that, but I need to do this. I've been carrying this weight on my own for too long.
Dr. Daedalus: In that case, the floor is yours.
SCP-8609: (Inhales) Okay. It was on my seventh year as an apprentice. There was this major gathering taking place at the palace of Karcist Jin-Yu. All the major houses would be attending, so we loaded into our carriages and headed east. (Chuckles) The journey was exhausting. We'd be on the move from the crack of dawn, only stopping once it was pitch black. It got so cold up in the mountains, and we had to split each day's rations amongst the forty of us. As you can probably imagine, we were at each other's throats by week two. Luckily by that point I had figured out how to stand up for myself.
Every once in a while we'd pass through a settlement. Those were always the days everyone looked forward to the most, since it meant we'd be able to eat something other than porridge and dried meat. Honestly, I just liked getting to talk to some new people after spending night after night with the same forty faces.
(SCP-8609 adjusts its posture nervously.)
SCP-8609: At some point, we began to hear… whispers. Strange goings on in the region. Farmers would see lights in their fields in the dead of night, finding patches of burnt grass when they went to investigate in the morning. Shopkeepers would have their entire alcohol stores bought out by mysterious men in dark hoods. Loud, methodical thuds would echo through the hills, like footsteps of a giant.
The elders told us to ignore them, said they were just ghost stories folk told to scare travellers. That might have quelled our nerves for a bit, but after a while it just didn't make sense. How could these tiny villages, with no possible way to contact each other, all somehow be able to make up the exact same stories? It was just easier not to think about it.
Now, the plan was actually to arrive early, but we had gotten a bit held up about halfway through the journey. This giant landslide had just completely blocked our paths, it took us a good few days to get back on track. But let me tell you, the joy in the air once the palace finally came into view. Oh, it was electric. There was cheering, there was laughter, a couple people started singing. Some of the elders had to quiets us down as we got closer, which is understandable. I'm sure we looked like a bunch of maniacs.
We finally pulled into the courtyard around sunset, and from there a group of servants guided us to our quarters. Some of the higher members broke off to go and mingle with the other house heads, but us apprentices just got whisked away to a shared dormitory in the back. I guess they didn't want any of the other elites to see us looking like a pack of rabid moles. Needed to wash up and smarten up, you know?
It wa-
(SCP-8609 chokes and pauses for several seconds before continuing.)
SCP-8609: It was a little while after that I decided to sneak out. I had already cleaned myself up and I figured I still had a bit of time to explore before we had to join everyone in the main hall. Besides, there was no point in getting all dolled up if I was just going to be rubbing up against everyone in some dusty room.
The palace was incredible. I mean I had heard about it from the elders, but to actually see it was a whole other experience. Long, stretching hallways lined from end to end with these beautiful carvings. They were a lot like the ones we had back at the monastery, but the stories they told were completely different. Depictions of heroes slaughtering monsters, of scholars founding great cities. There was this one scene of the Grand Karcist and his four Klavigar stood on a cliffside, and let me tell you, even I was feeling a little patriotic just looking at it. That is, until… she snapped me out of it.
I heard someone clear their throat, and when I turned around I saw this girl, not much younger than me, stood a little way up the hall. She didn't seem to be with any of the visiting houses; her outfit was a bit too plain and her complexion didn't really match any of the neighbouring regions, it was more like the kind you saw down south. Looking back, I'm guessing she was just a house servant, come to tell me the festivities were about to begin, but at the time I was just terrified about being caught.
I began to walk up to her, hoping I could talk my way out of any punishment, but then…
(SCP-8609 covers its mouth with both hands and slumps over in its seat.)
Dr. Daedalus: Look, if this is too much, you-
SCP-8609: No, no it's fine. I… I need to do this.
I was walking up to her, when I heard something. It was faint at first, but it got louder. Thud, thud, thud. Just like the people in the villages had told us about. Somewhere outside, thud, thud, thud. But it wasn't just getting louder, it was getting closer. I could feel the floor begin to shake beneath my feet, pieces of the carvings began to chip and fall off, the support beams bent and creaked. And the whole time that horrible noise was hitting me from every surface. THUD. THUD. THUD. I turned back to look at the girl, but then…
My mind couldn't even comprehend what had happened at first. One second she was there, the next she wasn't, along with the rest of the hallway. For a moment I just stood there, frozen, feeling the cold wind against my face. I looked up. I-I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop myself. Th-that's when I saw them, eyes. six giant, glowing eyes staring down at me. And it let out this sound, this horrible roar, oh Archons I can still hear it…
I didn't even realise I had started running at first, all I knew was that I was suddenly going down a long spiral staircase. A couple times I slipped and tumbled down a few steps, but I didn't care. I just picked myself up and kept on going. I didn't stop until I reached the bottom. It opened up into this balcony area, overlooking the main hall. For a second I got excited, thought I might be able to call for help, but… but then I looked down and…
(SCP-8609 begins to hyperventilate.)
SCP-8609: Oh Archons… they were dead, they were all dead. All of them, strewn across the floor. And there were men, men in brown hoods walking up and down, impaling the bodies with these long mental spears. One of them was walking around with Jin-Yu's head stuck on the end of his, like some kind of twisted trophy. Her face was twisted in this look of pure agony…
Suddenly, I felt someone grab me from behind. I tried to scream, but they covered my mouth. I thought for sure it was the end, but when I looked up, I saw Hadlan staring down at me. He told me to keep quiet, before pulling me into another stairwell. He told me it was a secret passageway, one the servants used to move around undetected. He didn't let go of me the whole time we were running, all the way down to the cellar.
He made me stand near the back as he ran around looking for things to block the doorway with. There wasn't really much to go off down there, so he just stacked a couple of chests on top of each other. Then h-he pulled out this little blade from his pocket and cut the end of his finger off. I asked if we was okay, but he didn't even flinch. He just started pacing, drawing little symbols on the ground and muttering to himself. I had no idea what was going on.
But then, he just snapped out of it. He sprang up and held onto my shoulders, and h-… he said…
(SCP-8609 becomes choked up, shedding several tears before continuing.)
SCP-8609: He said he was proud of me, of the man I had become. He told me there was no-one else he trusted with the future of our house. Then, he kissed me on the forehead, and my whole body suddenly felt so heavy. It was like I was sinking into the floor. My vision started to get cloudy, and I was overcome by this feeling of warmth. The last thing I remember, I could hear the sound of metal feet stomping down the stairs toward us, and then I blacked out. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in the cave.
Dr. Daedalus: Those men in the hoods, they were Mekhanites?
(SCP-8609 nods its head.)
SCP-8609: Look, I just want to say thank you to you guys for taking care of me this past year. Seriously, if it wasn't for you I'd still be hiding out in that cave, waiting for the villagers to find me and tear me apart.
Dr. Daedalus: Well, there's really no need to-
(SCP-8609 holds up its hand, shaking its head.)
SCP-8609: But, having said all that, I really think it's time I head out.
(Dr. Daedalus sighs and looks at SCP-8609 in a sympathetic manner. SCP-8609 glances down, seemingly in understanding. Long and Oakwood spontaneously abandon their posts outside the room, walking down the corridor.)
Dr. Daedalus: Look, I understand that things have been rough for you, but the world has changed so much since you got sealed away. The Foundation can't have a flesh-crafter like yourself wandering around unaccounted for. I'm sorry, truly, but you can't leave.
SCP-8609: Look, you said there were other Nälkä, right? If the Mekhanites are still active, if I can just get in touch with them, then maybe we can…
Dr. Daedalus: The Foundation is more than capable of handling the Church-
SCP-8609: No!
(SCP-8609 aggressively jumps up to its feet, slamming both hands on the table. Dr. Daedalus glances towards the door, seemingly expecting security to enter. Long and Oakwood approach the floor's central office area. A large number of personnel are present, going about their business.)
SCP-8609: You don't understand, the Mekhanites have one goal, total obliteration of all life. And now there's no Nälkän Empire to keep them in check, they just have to bring all pieces to the beach, and then it's all over…
Dr. Daedalus: If you try anything, you will be stopped. I'm sorry, Euris.
SCP-8609: No, I'm sorry.
(Long and Oakwood suddenly open fire on nearby personnel, beginning with other members of site security. Individuals who attempt to flee or initiate the site's breach protocols are also quickly dispatched. Dr. Daedalus reacts to the sound of the commotion, before turning back to SCP-8609 with a confused expression.)
Dr. Daedalus: How…?
(SCP-8609 stands up and begins to walk around the table to Dr. Daedalus.)
SCP-8609: Have you ever heard of Saghis-kir? Literally "Opening of the Mind." It was a little trick they taught us back at the monastery; pump the right chemicals through someone's brain and you can make them do anything. I've never actually done it myself before. I tried to use it on the village people, but it just made them paranoid. I needed regular, prolonged contact with another person. Lucky for me, you've had the same two guys walking me to the lunch-hall for the past three weeks. After that, it was just a matter of waiting for an opportunity to get away from that cell.
(Oakwood performs a final sweep of the floor, neutralizing any remaining staff, whilst Long works to barricade all potential entrances. The two then walk back toward the hallway. SCP-8609 goes to open the door, before stopping and turning back to Dr. Daedalus.)
SCP-8609: I'm sorry things had to go this way. You've been good to me, Richard. Stay in here and you won't get hurt.
(SCP-8609 opens the door and walks out, Dr. Daedalus does not move. In the hallway, SCP-8609 lets out a sigh of relief. It then dips its finger in a nearby puddle of blood and proceeds to draw some kind of symbol over its left breast, defacing the Foundation sigil on its jumpsuit. It waits for Long and Oakwood join back up with it, after which the three approach a large glass window at the end of the corridor. SCP-8609 covers its ears as Long fires at the window, shattering it.)
(Other members of security personnel reach the office floor, beginning to attempt to force their way in. SCP-8609 turns to acknowledge them, before turning back and muttering to itself.)
SCP-8609: Archons, I hope I know how to do this.
(SCP-8609 suddenly begins to grip its stomach and hunches over, wincing and moaning as if in pain. What appear to be two growths can be seen growing from its shoulder blades, pressing against the back of its jumpsuit. Eventually the jumpsuit tears, revealing two appendages, resembling large bat-like wings, coated in a thin mucus-like substance. It takes a moment to compose itself, before walking over to the broken window.)
(Security are able to bypass one of the barricades, rushing into the office area. They reach the end of the hallway, calling out to SCP-8609 with their weapons drawn. SCP-8609 does not turn around, but it does appear to be trembling slightly. As the security personnel draw closer, it takes a deep breath, before suddenly leaping out of the window.)
(SCP-8609 free-falls for a few moments, before the appendages on its back unfurl, granting it some limited gliding ability. It is able to clear a significant distance across the site, before teams on the ground open fire. The majority of shots miss, however a single bullet hits one of the wing appendages, causing it to retract slightly. SCP-8609 plummets to the ground, landing on the site's outer edge. It quickly picks itself up and begins to scale a nearby fence. Once at the top, it drops to the other side, before running out of sight.)
Shortly after this incident, task forces from both Site-35 and Site-898 were dispatched into the surrounding woods, however no traces of SCP-8609 could be found. Search efforts are ongoing.