SCP-3930 Does Not Exist

Link to article: SCP-3930 Does Not Exist.

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[[include component:preview
text=SCP-3930 must be guarded. You don't question why. Your shifts pay just enough to cover rent and food. You don't ask for more. You know better.]]
=====

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[[include :scp-wiki:component:author-label-source start=--
|name=badooga
|no-right-margin=*]]

**Zero-Sum Game: SCP-3930 Does Not Exist**

SCP-3930 must be guarded. You don't question why. Your shifts pay just enough to cover rent and food. You don't ask for more. You know better.

**Content Warnings:** depression, dissociation, derealization, gender dysphoria, capitalism-induced dread

[[[badooga-author-page|More By Badooga]]]

[[include :scp-wiki:component:author-label-source end=--]]

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You wake up. It is 1:49 pm. The winter sun is already low in the sky.

You crawl out of bed and make bacon and eggs for breakfast. It tastes bland. You live alone, so you read a book to pass the time.

You go to work. The commute takes an hour, so you listen to the news to pass the time. The [*https://innoter.com/en/articles/monitoring-of-the-usinsk-disaster/ oil spill] still hasn't been cleaned up. You doubt it ever will be.

The drive along that winding dirt road is uneventful. It always is. You arrive at your post at 3:30 pm, right on time.

The perimeter of [[[SCP-3930]]] must be guarded. You don't question why. Your shifts pay just enough to cover rent and food. You don't ask for more. You know better.

SCP-3930 does not exist.

You patrol along the perimeter on and off over the course of the next 12 hours. The forest is silent. You look towards the interior of the perimeter, but see only more forest. SCP-3930 must be guarded. You don't question why.

At the close of your shift, you pack your belongings and head out. Nobody ever bothers sticking around to chat. You know better than to try.

You pick up a few groceries on the way home. The sun has long since been down.

It's 5 am. You decide to treat yourself to a movie tonight on VHS. It's nothing special. You laugh a few times, probably.

Your eyes shut around 7 am. You forgot to do your laundry today. Maybe you'll remember tomorrow.

//Is this who you are?//

[[div class="scp-image-block block-center" style="width:100%;"]]
[[image https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-3930/thescreamer.png alt="Blue sky, blue mountains, and blue water make the spruce trees and their reflection striking along the Kobuk River."]]
[[/div]]

------

You wake up. It is 2:05 pm. The winter sun is already low in the sky.

You remove yourself from the sofa. You didn't sleep very well. You forgot to turn the TV off after the movie. The light hurts your eyes a bit.

You make bacon and eggs for breakfast. It tastes bland. You live alone, so you read a book to pass the time. It is silent.

You attempt to shave before heading out. You never liked your beard. You don't have much time, so you nick yourself as you rush through it. The beard is still there.

You go to work. The commute takes an hour, so you listen to the news to pass the time. Apparently the Mexican peso has been [https://www.nytimes.com/1994/12/23/world/crisis-in-mexico-the-overview-with-peso-freed-mexican-currency-drops-20-more.html plummeting] in value. Mexico is half a world away, but that doesn't stop you from being curious.

The drive along that winding dirt road is uneventful. It always is. You arrive at your post at 3:37 pm. Your supervisor fortunately isn't there today.

SCP-3930 does not exist.

You patrol along the perimeter on and off over the course of the next 12 hours. The forest is silent, but the winter breeze leaves you with a nasty shiver. Even so, you press on. SCP-3930 must be guarded. You can't question why.

SCP-3930 does not exist.

At the close of your shift, you pack your belongings and head out. You aren't surprised that nobody notices your shivering. You know better.

You drive straight home. You start to wonder about the oil spill along the way, but you stop yourself. You know better.

It's 4:30 am. You watched a movie yesterday, so you clearly can't do so today. You try your hand at drawing instead. You haven't drawn since you were little, and it //shows//. After an hour, you rip the paper up and crawl into bed.

You stare at the ceiling for half an hour longer before falling asleep. You forgot to do your laundry today. Maybe you'll remember tomorrow.

//Is this who you want to be?//

[[div class="scp-image-block block-center" style="width:100%; filter:grayscale(20%)"]]
[[image https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-3930/thescreamer.png alt="Blue sky, blue mountains, and blue water make the spruce trees and their reflection striking along the Kobuk River. Filtered to be twenty percent grayscale."]]
[[/div]]

------

You wake up. It is 2:45 pm. The winter sun is already kissing the horizon.

You crawl out of bed and make eggs for breakfast. It tastes bland and leaves you a bit queasy. Oh well. You live alone, so you try to read a book to fill that dead, empty void. Your eyes glaze over the words, so you place so you place down the book in defeat. You used to be such an avid reader. What happened?

You go to work. The commute takes an hour, so you turn on the radio to pass the time. You hear only static. You try your best to tune it out. It doesn't go away.

The drive along that winding dirt road is uneventful. It always is. You arrive at your post at 3:59 pm. Your supervisor chews you out. You know better than to defend yourself.

SCP-3930 does not exist.

You patrol along the perimeter on and off over the course of the next 11.5 hours. During hour 8, you encounter a squirrel. It stares at you, and you stare back. It chirps at you, but you hear only static. After that, you press on. SCP-3930 must be guarded, but part of you wonders why.

SCP-3930 //could// exist.

At the close of your shift, you pack your belongings and head out. Everyone else's shifts were uneventful. You were probably just imagining things. Either way, you know better than to ask questions.

SCP-3930 can't exist.

You sit in your car and listen to some music on the radio. Most of it is garbled by static, but you make out dissonant lyrics from a few songs you recognize. //By all the stars above / I've spent a lifetime looking for someone / Maybe I can save us / Can you hear me?// You turn off the radio after an hour. Music doesn't seem to interest you anymore.

You drive straight home. The sun has long since been down. You're used to it.

It's 5:30 am. You decide to write a letter to a friend from your hometown. You spend ages trying to find the right words, but the end result is basically gibberish. You've never been much of a writer, and it //shows//. After an hour and a half, you rip the paper up and crawl into bed. Maybe they'll reach out to you instead.

You stare at the ceiling for an hour longer before falling asleep. You forgot to do your laundry today. Maybe you'll remember tomorrow.

//It doesn't have to be this way.//

[[div class="scp-image-block block-center" style="width:100%; filter:grayscale(40%)"]]
[[image https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-3930/thescreamer.png alt="Blue sky, blue mountains, and blue water make the spruce trees and their reflection striking along the Kobuk River. Filtered to be forty percent grayscale."]]
[[/div]]

------

You wake up. It is 1:30 pm. The winter sun is already low in the sky.

You peel yourself off of your mattress. Your doctor says you need at least eight hours of sleep each night, but you only got five and a half. Maybe waking up early will help reset your sleep schedule.

You crawl out of bed and make eggs for breakfast. It tastes bland and chewy and makes you nauseous, so you throw it out. Maybe you don't like eggs anymore. You live alone, so you try to read a book to fill that dead, empty void in your skull. The words mean nothing to you, so this time you throw out the book as well. Younger you could //never//.

You try to style your hair differently today. You wonder if someone will notice. You know better. After half an hour of failure, you throw your comb in the trash. You wonder if you'd look pretty if you grew your hair out. You know better.

You go to work. The commute takes an hour, so you turn on the news to pass the time. The fighting in [*https://www.rferl.org/a/1140848.html Chechnya] has left thousands dead so far. Hearing this makes your nausea worse, so you switch back to the static. The white noise keeps you company the whole way through.

The drive along that winding dirt road is uneventful. It always is. You arrive at your post early at 3:21 pm. You smile at your small victory, but nobody else cares. You know better.

SCP-3930 does not exist.

You patrol along the perimeter on and off over the course of the next 12 hours. The forest is motionless, but the radio static clings to the back of your skull. You wonder if you should report it, but since there is no anomaly, you don't question it. You know better.

SCP-3930 shouldn't exist.

You look towards the interior of the perimeter, but see only more forest. Past the forest is the river. You wonder if the oil spill will stop polluting the water one of these days. You know better.

SCP-3930 does not exist.

You stumble on some rocks on your way back. Someone catches you with safe, guiding hands, but when you look around, nobody is there. You wonder if you should report it, but since there is no anomaly, you don't question it. You know better.

SCP-3930 will always exist.

You fill up on gas on the way home. The sun has long since been down. You buy a snack to treat yourself, but it ends up being stale. You throw it out.

It's 5 am. You think about treating yourself to a movie on VHS, but you're too tired. Besides, the last one wasn't even funny. Instead, you try to shave. You never liked your beard. You didn't get much sleep, so you nick yourself as you rush through it. The beard is still there. You throw your razor in the trash.

You know you should go to sleep early, but you don't. You //desperately// want to see the sun. The sun doesn't rise until past 9 am, but that doesn't matter to you. To pass the time, you browse through the Foundation's digital archives to see if there's anything interesting to read. You only have Level 1 clearance, so you don't find much. You know better than to keep pushing it.

Your eyes shut around 8 am. You tried your best to make it until dawn, but it wasn't enough. It never is. You know better.

You forgot to do your laundry today. Maybe you'll remember tomorrow.

//Let me help you.//

[[div class="scp-image-block block-center" style="width:100%; filter:grayscale(60%)"]]
[[image https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-3930/thescreamer.png alt="Blue sky, blue mountains, and blue water make the spruce trees and their reflection striking along the Kobuk River. Filtered to be sixty percent grayscale."]]
[[/div]]

------

You wake up. It is 3:04 pm. The winter sun has already vanished.

You rush straight out the door. You overslept, so there is no time for breakfast. It would have tasted bland anyway.

You go to work. The commute takes an hour, so you turn on the radio to pass the time. You hear only static. The white noise keeps you company the whole way through. It always has.

The drive along that winding dirt road is uneventful. It always is. You arrive at your post at 4 pm. You expect your supervisor to yell at you, but instead they just say you need to try harder. You try to tell them you //have// been trying, but the static clings tightly to your throat. Instead, you ask them why you need to guard the perimeter if there is no anomaly. They shake their head and say that you know better than to ask that.

SCP-3930 does not exist.

You patrol along the perimeter on and off over the course of the next 11.5 hours. The forest is silent and still, but you wonder if something is watching you. Perhaps you would be disappointed if there wasn't. You look towards the interior of the perimeter, but see only more forest. Maybe there's something out there if you walk far enough.

SCP-3930 does not think.

At the end of hour 8, you lie back against a tree and close your eyes. Your doctor says you need at least eight hours of sleep each night. You hear your supervisor calling out over the radio, so you respond with something to shut them up. The words mean nothing to you.

SCP-3930 does not exist.

When you close your eyes, the static gets louder. You wonder if you should report it, but since there is no anomaly, you don't question it. You know better.

SCP-3930 does not speak.

You think about the friend you tried writing to. You wonder if they remember you exist. You know better. You wonder if your family remembers you exist. You know better. You wonder if you remember who you wished you could be when you were a kid. You know better.

SCP-3930 does not exist.

At the close of your shift, you attempt to join a rare conversation between your coworkers, but they don't seem to notice you. You know better than to try. You pack your belongings and head out. The sun has long since been down.

Instead of going straight home, you drive through town. It's 5 am, so the town is empty. You see a sign for a festival next week that piques your interest. It's on Monday from 3 pm to 7 pm. You forget you ever saw it and move on. Why did you even bother?

You get home at 6 am. You decide to treat yourself to a movie tonight on VHS. You don't have the energy for it, but you push through it anyway. It's nothing special. You try to laugh, but only static emerges from your mouth.

You turn the movie off halfway through and pace around the room. There's something you're missing, but you don't know what. When you see your reflection in the mirror, your eyes water. Your beard is still there. Maybe you could get rid of it if you tried harder. Just try harder. Have you considered trying harder?

You get a phone call. It's nothing special. You're late on one of your monthly payments, or the void screams out your name, or your mother finally passed away, or some other nonsense. You hang up on them. It doesn't matter. It never has.

You crawl into bed and scream into your pillow. You don't know what time it is. It doesn't matter. You wonder if you could cry. You know better. You drift into the nothingness of sleep, and for a brief, blissful eternity, you find a semblance of peace.

You forgot to do your laundry today. You won't remember tomorrow.

//Come find me.//

[[div class="scp-image-block block-center" style="width:100%; filter:grayscale(80%)"]]
[[image https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-3930/thescreamer.png alt="Blue sky, blue mountains, and blue water make the spruce trees and their reflection striking along the Kobuk River. Filtered to be eighty percent grayscale."]]
[[/div]]

------

You don't wake up. It is 2 pm. The winter sun whispers false promises of salvation as it hangs low in the sky.

You shamble out of bed and don't make breakfast. You live alone, and you do nothing to fill the dead, empty void in your skull. Your mind is static.

//I can fix this.//

You go to work. The commute is uneventful. It always is. It always will be. It always is. It always will be. It always is. It always will be.

The drive along that winding dirt road leads you into dark nothingness. You wonder if the forest will swallow you whole. To your dismay, it doesn't. You arrive at your post at 3:30 pm. Right on time! Maybe you'll earn a promotion.

//I will make it right.//

The perimeter of SCP-3930 will not be guarded. You don't tell your supervisor. They wouldn't believe you anyway.

SCP-3930 does not

You encircle the anomaly like a predator ensnaring their prey. You want to know what's inside, and so you finally skulk towards the interior, even as the winter breeze leaves you with a nasty shiver that drills into your bones. You see only more forest, but you know there's more just beyond your sight. You want to know why. You //have// to know why.

SCP-3930 does n

You hear your supervisor calling out over the radio. You drown them out with more static. They mean nothing to you.

SCP-3930 does

You breach the perimeter and approach the center with steady, cautious footsteps. If you keep going, your coworkers will shoot you on sight. You don't care. They mean nothing to you.

At last, you stumble across a large circular section of red spray paint. You only see more forest within the circle, but you know better. If you travel far enough, there is a building at the bottom of the world. And in that building, there is nothing. And in that nothing, maybe you'll find yourself.

//The building is not for you. Step closer to the circle.//

You place yourself a foot or two from the circle. You hear distant shouting in the trees behind you. They'll be on you in less than a minute. Why would you care?

You call out to the void, but only static emerges from your throat. Even so, the void answers.

//I'm just like you. I'm here to help.//

You cock your head. Are you doing the right thing? You wonder if you should head back and report this, but since there is no anomaly, you don't question it. You know better.

//Put your hand up to the boundary.//

You raise your hand up and pause. You're nothing if not hesitant. You open your mouth, but the void answers preemptively. You already know the answer.

//There's nothing left here for you.//

You move your hand further, and in an instant, the emptiness within you boils over. The static courses out from your chest, a wave of pain radiating outwards before being smothered by sweet, beautiful numbness. When it reaches your face, you hear beautiful, dissonant sounds emerging from your mouth that aren't yours. You don't care. The words mean nothing to you.

//How do you feel?//

The static forms a warm blanket around your mind and body, ensnaring you with its stillness and tranquility. You are no longer hungry or thirsty, hot or cold, sad or angry. You are no longer required to breathe, or think, or know, or care. You are no longer obligated, nor bearded, nor shackled. You are no longer.

//I'm glad. This is the happy ending you deserve.//

Your supervisor arrives with someone you do not recognize. They sweep the area, and even as they pass within mere feet of you, they don't see you. After all, you are no longer. Instead, they look to each other and shrug in defeat.

//It's okay. I've got you. You're safe now.//

When they leave, your savior widens your mouth into a hollow, satisfied grin. Your body is no longer yours and yours alone, but you wonder if it ever truly was. You know better. You've always known better.

At the early close of your final shift, you leave behind your worthless belongings and head out towards your new life.

[[div class="scp-image-block block-center" style="width:100%;"]]
[[image https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/bb/A_Palette_of_Blues_%288485281720%29.jpg alt="Blue sky, blue mountains, and blue water make the spruce trees and their reflection striking along the Kobuk River. Uncropped."]]
[[/div]]

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[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box | author=badooga]]
=====
> **Filename:** thescreamer.png
> **Author:** [[*user djkaktus]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0
> **Source Link:** [/scp-3930 SCP Foundation Wiki]
> **Derivative of:**
> ----
> **Name:** A Palette of Blues (8485281720).jpg
> **Author:** Western Arctic National Parklands
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
> **Source Link:** [http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/file:a_Palette_of_Blues_(8485281720).jpg Wikimedia Commons]
=====
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]
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SCP-3930 Does Not Exist

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