SCP-4827

Link to article: SCP-4827.
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Snapshot of gravitational lensing around X0620, approximately 5,000 light years from Earth. 
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**Special Containment Procedures:** Until the nature of SCP-4827 instances can be determined, containment should focus on the suppression of public research and data on X0620 and other black holes. Foundation personnel currently assigned to the study of X0620 (besides those aboard Observatory Site OS-13[[footnote]]A K-class installation currently in orbit around Mercury.[[/footnote]]) are to be amnesticised and monitored for possible cognitohazard infection. 

A team from MTF Nu-9 ("Null Chasers") is currently on route to OS-13 and is expected to make contact within six weeks. The team has been instructed to evacuate all personnel on-board, retrieve data recorders and engage the station's self-destruct protocol. ##blue|**UPDATE:** Due to the most recent audio transmission from OS-13, emergency orders have been dispatched to MTF Nu-9, in transit: Terminate all personnel on sight. Under no circumstances are they to communicate with any survivors.##

**Description:** SCP-4827 is a series of anomalous events aboard OS-13 that correlate with ghost stories being told amongst the research staff to alleviate stress during periods of long-term isolation. These events include mechanical failures, accidents and uncharacteristic behavior of the team members, which parallel details within their narratives.

**Discovery:** The four-member Research Task Force (stationed aboard OS-13 since early 2019) had been recording abnormal spin-rates from X0620 before communication was severed on April 19, 2020. Thereafter, the following audio logs were accessed from OS-13's database:

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++++++ Abridged Log of SCP-4827 Instances:
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[[collapsible show="ONE" hide="▽ ONE ▽"]]
**Speaker:** Graham C.,  ███, Chief Engineer

**Date:** December 22, 2019
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**Audio Recording:** You've all met Martha, haven't you, back in Site-██? Remember the time she left the stove on in our apartment? Darn near burnt the entire residential section down. Back when we were living off-site, she'd often forget to lock the front door before leaving for blackjack with her buddies. So imagine my irritation when I get home from work one evening and find the front door completely left open.

The lights in the house were switched off and her car was still in the driveway, meaning she'd probably hitched a ride from Carol and forgot to shut the door on her way out. Or it had been the wind. As I walk up to the front door, I see nothing but darkness inside. _

Imagine my surprise then as I step over the threshold of the door when Martha waltzes down the staircase towards me. I  ask her if she'd forgotten to shut the door before she left for cards that day, but she looks at me with a horrified expression. //I didn't go out today,// she says. //Carol called in sick. I thought I told you a minute ago when I heard you opening the door from upstairs?//

Man, we jumped into our car and high-tailed it out of there that night. Didn't even look back. Cops later said they found no signs of forced entry, but we weren't taking any chances. That's why Martha always says she's less worried about the thousand and one things that could kill her inside the walls of the Foundation than whatever's lurking on the other side of the unknown. 
----
**EVENT LOG:** Moments after the recording, gravitational lensing across X0620's event horizon increases by a factor of five, to the point where light begins to cycle around its aperture at a spin-rate of 0.9[[footnote]]Which, according to Einstein, causes the distortion of space itself.[[/footnote]].

Three days later, video-feeds aboard OS-13 show the sudden depressurisation of Airlocks One through Three, their outer hatches opening simultaneously and without warning. No injuries were reported by the crew.

Chief Engineer Graham attributes further instances of mechanical malfunction to the station's on-board computer behaving as though "a virus had gotten in".
[[/collapsible]]

[[collapsible show="TWO" hide="▽ TWO ▽"]]
**Speaker:** Hart, J. █████, Scope Specialist

**Date:** February 09, 2020
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**Audio Recording:** You ever get the feeling you're being watched? Back when Stace and I were living in Nebraska, Whitman was like an hour's drive away, meaning my old place was in the middle of fucking nowhere. <pause> And no, this was //before// I got this shitty assignment.

Stace would bark at really odd hours of the night, and always towards a specific part of the woods outside our window. At first, I thought it was just wildlife, you know? Hungry raccoon digging through the trash or shadows playing tricks on those old Retriever eyes. Of course, I didn't see nothin' myself. Even went out a few times to check. Only shadows and the rustle of leaves on the wind.

But as the nights wear on, her barking gets louder, and more frequent. Neale here practically scolds me one morning after I mess up an experiment due to how tired I was the night before. Yeah, you remember, don't ya, ya bastard? <laughter> That evening, I decide to mount cameras around the perimeter, find out exactly what's going on. Yeah, they're miniature versions of the ones we've got installed here, capable of detecting all sorts of shit on the electromagnetic spectrum.

That night, Stace starts barking as usual, but then I hear her begin to whimper from the living room. Suddenly, there's scratching of paws on my bedroom door, which almost makes me shit my pajamas. But it's just Stace, too frightened to be alone with whatever the hell's out there. I open the door and Stace jumps onto my bed, and I swear to god we spend the rest of the night curled up under the sheets. Come to think of it, she was probably the one calming //me// down that night.

Next morning, of course I check the footage. Just about the time Stace starts barking, I see a silhouette appear just beyond the treeline. It has the outline of a man, but it stays deathly still, arms by its side and its face all blurry at a distance. Weird thing is it seems to be staring straight into my camera, like it knew I was watching the entire time.

Fuck, man. Lesson here is trust your bloody dog. They can sense all sorts of shit; probably saved me a couple times from shit as well.
----
**EVENT LOG:** One hour after the recording, visual telemetry of X0620 shows abnormal pulses of gamma rays from its accretion disk, or as Scope Specialist Hart █████ observes in her personal log, "like the fucking thing's blinking at me."

Specialist Hart continues to display abnormal behavior in the weeks to come, refusing to examine X0620 for extended periods of time. Crew members report overhearing her repeating in her quarters: "It followed me. It must have followed me in here."
[[/collapsible]]

[[collapsible show="THREE" hide="▽ THREE ▽"]]
**Speaker:** Forster ████, Radio Astronomer

**Date:** March 31, 2020
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**Audio Recording:** I never enjoyed the sensation of being underwater. When I was a kid, my brothers would cannonball into the deep end of the pool but I would always hover near the shallow side till my tears convinced my parents otherwise, or I got pushed in against my will.

People always fear the deep ocean or whatever's lurking in the depths of the unknown, but this was the fucking public pool, with its clear, blue chloride mixed with too much urine and sweat. The thing is, I never had an issue with //seeing// things whilst underwater. It was what I //heard// that freaked me out. Under the muffled shrieks of kids splashing above and the shouts of absent-minded parents, I would hear the sound of someone crying. It was a low, dull sort of weeping, the kind you just knew something terrible had happened; the kind there was no coming back from. 

It came from the direction of the deep end, the parts hidden in shadows, where the air bubbles gurgled upwards from the storm drains. I was six at the time, so I thought to myself: surely there must be someone trapped under the pool, pinned down under the weight of all that water. Heh. It was only much later that I discovered someone had drowned in the pool about ten years ago. I didn't say much to my parents after that, merely volunteered to do all the housework whenever they went for a swim. They didn't seem to mind. 
----
**EVENT LOG:** Shortly after the recording, Radio Astronomer Forster detects random bursts of gravitational waves from X0620, resembling tiny blips on photo-sensory equipment[[footnote]]A miniature, more sensitive version of the machine at LIGO, Hanford.[[/footnote]]. 

However, a spike in the recording causes Forster's eardrums to burst and seizure-like symptoms to manifest. He is immediately restrained and transported to the medical bay. Forster is no longer seen or heard from on the station's recording devices.

Subsequent communication with OS-13 becomes sporadic and unreliable. Three days later, a distress call is logged by the station's computer, but the recording is marred by static. Upon cleaning up the audio file, Foundation personnel detect overlays of laughter mixed with screams.
[[/collapsible]]

[[collapsible show="FOUR" hide="▽ FOUR ▽"]]
**Speaker:** Neale ████,  Expedition Lead

**Date:** April 19, 2020
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**Audio Recording:** Did you hear the story about a group of researchers who were stuck aboard a space station? They were told to observe a black hole for a year and a half, to sit and listen, to watch and poke.

Well, eventually, it poked back. They thought they could unlock the door to the cosmos, pierce the darkness with glass and steel. They thought that if they listened close enough, they would hear the voice of the gods. But gaze into the darkness long enough and you will find your demons. Pay close enough attention and you will hear our screams, crushed under the weight of gravity. 

You told us your stories, gave us a doorway into your world. Now, allow us to return the favour. Did you hear the one about the group of researchers who went mad aboard a space station? The man who had a wife flung himself out the airlock. Now, he shall remain in his ignorance forever. The woman with her dog gouged both her eyes out. Now, she shall see the horrors of endless night. The man who refused to listen to voices now bleeds from his ears. He shall hear our whispers for eternity. 

Did you hear the one about the researcher who went mad and murdered his colleagues aboard a space station? He threw them out of the airlock, one by one, then logged a distress call so that others would come. By the time you hear this recording, it will be too late.
----
**EVENT LOG:** All communication with OS-13 ceases thereafter.
[[/collapsible]]

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SCP-4827

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