Link to article: SCP-8021.
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[[>]] [[module rate]] [[/>]] **Item #:** SCP-8021 **Object Class:** Keter **Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-8021 is considered self-contained. Any means of neutralizing its effects are unclear at present. Research of the anomaly is primarily handled by the Department of Horology. Current containment efforts mainly focus on the retrieval and suppression of phenomena related to SCP-8021. Due to the considerable scale of SCP-8021’s side effects, a nationwide “Normative Restoration” attempt is currently underway. It is estimated that an eventual return to normative consensus will not be fulfilled for another three years. **Description:** SCP-8021 is the apparent reduction of time passing in the universe. SCP-8021 supposes that the universe is moving at a rate slow enough to appear completely suspended to entities outside of local time and space. No noticeable difference is apparent to those within the parameters of SCP-8021 affects. The basis of SCP-8021 is supported by a number of sources, including the sudden presence of anomalies and environmental alterations located throughout the United States. This additionally includes a written account referencing such evidence, supposedly produced by an entity unaffected by SCP-8021 (SCP-8021-3). A full list has been made below: ||~ Item: ||~ Info: ||~ Current Status: ||~ Notes: || || SCP-8021-1 || A dimensional rift located five feet above a wheat field in [REDACTED]. Whatever location exists on the other side is inaccessible; all matter phases directly through and out the opposite side with no ill effects. Suspected as being the means of which SCP-8021-2 was able to enter the prime reality[[footnote]]Term used in reference to an inhabitant's respected universe[[/footnote]]. || Contained. The structure built around SCP-8021-1 is equipped with Scranton Reality Anchors capable of preventing further potential breaches or increase in SCP-8021-1’s size. || It is theorized that the alternate reality beyond SCP-8021-1 no longer exists. This phenomenon has similarly occurred with other dimensional rifts when their respected reality ceases to exist for whatever reason. ||theorized || SCP-8021-2 || An extra-dimensional entity believed to be responsible for SCP-8021-1 and SCP-8021 itself, the former of which it used to access out reality. SCP-8021-2 is responsible for the deaths of ~500 individuals throughout the Unites States. It is believed that SCP-8021-2 was capable of reproducing asexually. || SCP-8021-2 was found deceased. Corpse kept in Site-19's on-site morgue. || N/A || || SCP-8021-2A || Ruptured membrane containing deceased embryos produced by SCP-8021-2 in question. The brain of embryos appear similar in structure to an average humans. Instances were found in various locations throughout the United States. The amount of SCP-8021-2A instances that may have existed is ~500. No living samples have yet been recovered. || All samples kept in deepfreeze storage. || Recovered material samples show signs of severe cell degeneration from aging.|| || SCP-8021-3 || Elizabeth Morris, a female human, thirty years old (Prior to SCP-8021). Daughter of Level 2 Foundation researcher Rachel Morris[[footnote]]See Document-LOAI for additional information[[/footnote]]. Believed to have been the only human conscious and aware of SCP-8021. Subject kept an extensive journal (Document 8021-3) during this time. || Current status unknown. || N/A || Document 8021-3 itself was discovered on the desk of Site-19s director shortly after SCP-8021s discovery. The journal was sealed inside a small archival box coated in small traces of dust. **Document 8021-3[[footnote]]Certain details have been censored due to referencing confidential data[[/footnote]]:** > The world has ended and it’s all my fault. > Come on. Be more informative than that. > > My name is Elizabeth. I live at [REDACTED], [REDACTED]. I studied at [REDACTED], but only for two years, before I dropped out and moved over here. I make coffee. That last detail's pretty inconsequential, but it's the only other thing I can think of. > > So anyway, I am the one who probably fucked everything up. I don’t know how, but it’s the only explanation that I have. I woke up to find everything wrong and I was the same. > > It’s fitting, because my troubles normally start in the morning. I woke up to realize that my phone alarm failed to go off. The morning traffic didn’t wake me either. Realizing this, I threw my quilt off, and watched as it just stopped moving midair. I panicked, and fell off the couch, right onto a load of empty bottles. When I got back up, I noticed some birds through my window, floating completely still on the horizon. > > I checked outside and saw cars motionless on the road. Some neighbors (never learned any of their names) were there too, frozen mid-walk. One’s still out there, about to bite the hotdog I already took. > > When I picked up my watch, the seconds hand started ticking again; it stopped when I put it back down. I tried it out with a few things. Threw a cup in the air and it froze, falling bit by bit with each tap of my hand. Everything stopped at 7:13am. The sun’s partly risen behind cloudy-grey skies. Trust me to pause all of time during a fucking overcast. > > I have a feeling what this all relates to, but I haven’t yet figured out how to fix it. My mom never left me a contact number or anything, and if everyone else is paused, then I doubt that her or anyone she knows can help. I’ve ran some tests, and un-pausing things seems to have some annoying limits. I tried whipping a long cable to see how far it would keep moving. It was about 5ft. So there’s a “size range” of things I can un-pause of about 5x5ft, but nothing beyond that. > > Also, un-pausing living creatures is out of the question. I’ve checked[[footnote]]A man believed to be the local resident in question was found deceased with symptoms similar to a sudden subarachnoid haemorrhage[[/footnote]]. > > I’ve tried sleeping, hoping things would return to normal once I woke up; holding onto things while thinking of them unfreezing till I almost passed out. Nothing works. Even if dying undid all of this, I wouldn’t find out. Like I would even do that. > > Food’s not a problem, since it never spoils. And I’m free to do whatever I want. That’s what most would do in these situations, right? Time has stopped and you can do whatever you want? Well, those people don’t take in the endless silence. > > Even when everything’s quiet, we pick up on tiny little noises. Our brains are adapted to that, even if we don’t realize it. But absolute silence? This isn’t something I imagine most could handle. [Two blank pages] [Four pages have been torn out] [Three blank pages] [Six pages have been torn out] [Four blank pages] [Eleven pages have been torn out] > I needed a familiar place to visit and calm down, so I’m at work! …Watching the sunlight peer out from between dingy, grey clouds. Coffee’s ok (iced that is, since no electricity). Visiting normally empty places helps me pretend that everything’s ok for a while. Don’t want a repeat of the last few days. > > It’s been three weeks since my first entry. Haven’t been around much though, smaller vehicles are my only means of transportation. Been mostly using electric scooters and pedal bikes. I’d try a motorbike, but I have enough trouble with the scooters, and I’m not that suicidal just yet. Whenever I touch something, the effect spreads to objects directly touching it and so on. It makes sense, technically everything’s just made up of countless smaller things. > > Things are less thrilling that I’d originally assumed. I’ve slept in a few hotels and hijacked allot of fresh baths in the middle of being run. I occasionally considered stealing something valuable, but it felt shitty. Some --nights-- mornings I get bored and start talking to myself. > I’m in a library in [REDACTED], a big one with academic books for researchers and dust bunny nests. Reading whatever I can find on “time” and “logic” for something… Anything. Reminds me of college. Got a paper cut while reading one of the really old books. Imagine if in the end, I died from an ancient dirt infection from some old, filthy tome? > > It’s nostalgic. Haven’t been in a proper library for years.There are maps here too. Since there’s no Internet, I’ll have to borrow some before I leave. The silence is deafening. > What was I thinking? Just crack open some random quantum-physics books, read them in a few days, and suddenly find all the answers? I can’t keep stalling. > My last scooter battery died on the freeway today, so I ditched it and walked a few miles until reaching a rest-stop. Place was mostly empty the morning everything went still, but luckily they'd already prepared some burgers. I grabbed a load and gorged on them. Was tempted to try again, but I didn’t dare touch any of the staff. > > There’s an overpass bridge with a roof and windows connecting the rest stop to where a hotel is on the other side of the freeway. The sun seems brighter here, so I set up my sleeping bag and slept right there. It never occurred to me until now that in a way, there’s no temperature. It’s hard to describe, it’s not hot or cold, lukewarm maybe? Doesn’t make sense. > My paper cut still stings. I’m sure that I sterilized it enough. > When I finished eating this morning I heard something hit the floor behind me. > > My soda cup was rolling across the floor. I picked it up and tried dropping it a few times, and it worked. That’s never happened before. Nothing else was there? > > I went to leave and I heard a distant clicking noise somewhere. Was something else in there? I want o believe that the sensory deprivation is finally getting to me. > Hearing only your own footsteps in a still world is uncanny. No noise pollution means every sound is like a sledgehammer hitting the ground. I can hear the echoes of my own footsteps long after I’ve stopped walking. I don’t know whether I’d hear if something was nearby or if I wouldn’t be able to tell if the sound was real? > My parent’s house is a few days away on foot from my current location. > > My mom’s work kept us moving around allot. She dealt with confidential information so she could never talk to me about it. She’d always tell me how serious it was, way too often. Unfortunately, that just made it more intriguing to a young me. I’d always sneak a listen from upstairs when her and dad thought I was asleep. Allot of those memories are foggy and painted over by childish fantasies I let get out of control. I still recall distinct words, the ones standing out the most being “containment”, “anomaly”, and “keter”. > > I didn’t understand what most of it meant, but still, hearing it all made me want to be a scientist for a long time. Might have made it somewhere. If I’d just gotten that acceptance letter... I found the empty envelope in the trashcan a week later. > > What could she have been hiding about me? She might’ve even known how all of this happened. Not that they can tell me anything now. Although, she’ll definitely be easier to talk to in her current state. > Finally arrived home. It looked better than when I last saw it. Dad must have spent time fixing the place up after I left. Guess they finally stopped moving around and settled in. > > I found my parents standing there frozen in the living room, mouths wide mid-yelling, arms in the air with fingers pointing at each other. Couldn’t have paused as a more perfect snapshot of their relationship. The only element missing was myself in the middle. Made sure to tilt any pictures and budge the furniture around a bit. If things ever return to normal, it’ll drive my mom crazy. My bedroom’s still the same as I left it. > > __Note: Once fully rested, grab a few of my old books.__ > > I visited the park where I used to watch the ducks. Tried un-pausing one of them to see if it would be different. It’s the same as when I do it to people. Still feel really bad about it. > > I’m trying to fall asleep now. I’m exhausted, but I can’t relax with all of these noises in my head. [Two blank pages] > Something > > It’s just been [One blank page] > I’ve left home. I was asleep, when my mom woke me up. She was screaming. Then I hea > > There was movement down in the living room. I heard clicking noises and something gurgling. I peeked into the hallway, I couldn’t see a silhouette from downstairs. Shadows can’t be cast if light doesn’t move anymore. But just from the noises though, I don’t want to see its shadow. I waited until I heard something leave through the front door. I checked the window and saw nothing, but things outside had been moved just enough to indicate a presence. I eventually went down into the living room. I stood still for so > Long > > I went back to my old room and hid under the bed sheets. I don’t know for how long. > > I checked the neighborhood. All of the people were posed differently from last time I saw them. They were like my parents. Their hea > > They’d all moved. They all looked like they re-froze again, mid-struggle. > > were missing > > Her arms were out clutching at dead air. > > There were so many houses and walls that it could’ve been lurking behind. I made it to the freeway. I ran for way too long. My footfalls pounded against the concrete louder than anything, getting louder and louder whenever I looked back. If anything was chasing me, I couldn’t hear it. I’ve locked myself in a hotel room. I’m not going back to my apartment. If whatever did that to everyone has been following me, then I don’t want to see a whole city of people.[[footnote]]The bodies of Dr. Morris and her husband were later found buried in their back garden[[/footnote]] > all the gushing blood > like suspended red raindrops > hit the floor when touched [Five pages missing] > Hello journal. > It’s been two weeks since what last happened. I didn’t want to go back to my apartment, but it’s the place I feel the most safe. > > When I got there, everyone I could see was the same. Just headless bodies clinging, waving, crawling… Whatever they were doing the second before their heads being removed. I used the alleyways to make as little contact with the bodies as possible, but got too close to a few on my way back home. > I’m not sure what to say anymore. Nothing’s changed since I came back here. I sneak out, grab supplies, and make my way back to my apartment before whatever it is I’m afraid of might notice me. It’s the same as I’ve always been. I haven’t even seen it yet. Did what I write before actually happen? The noises are back. > I saw it today. I was in a warehouse looking for supplies and heard something coming. I hid in a crate and waited. Then it came. > > Large humanoid torso, rough yellowish-brown skin, long body covered in cracks, scarring, burn marks, and blisters. No legs, just a trail of loose flesh, like it was torn off of something even bigger. Drags itself around by its arms, yet moves quickly and without struggle. Bends and twists its back like it has no spine. No face, just a hole with nothing inside. > > It approached one of the staff, a woman who’d been lifting a box before the pause. It coiled itself around her, like it was made of pliable putty and stared straight down at her as it inched in closer. Then her hair started waving slowly. Then her lips began to open as her neck turned. > > And then she blinked. > > That was the first time I’d seen another human move in months. The rest of her body didn’t though. And then she looked up. She could only jerk her neck around. It leaned down towards her until it had engulfed her entire head with its face hole. After a minute of muffled moans, I heard a slow, loud tear. Her head was gone when I looked again. > > I didn’t leave the crate until I was sure it had left after a few hours. Kept my eyes closed most of the time. [Three pages omitted] > I got up the nerve to follow it today. It killed four more people in the same way as before. It only ever consumes the head. Why is that? Something about the brain? I noticed that its abdomen was much larger than last time, and then I found out why. > > After finishing, it leaned down and out from the hole in its face fell a big, tumorous lump, pulsating from under a thin layer of pink gelatin that quickly melted away. It lifted the mass up and positioned several stones from off the ground under it, leaving it suspended there midair. The lump was partly translucent and something was inside, around the size of a soccer ball. It pumped out a few more, repeating the process, placing the stones with precision. Then it left with a much smaller stomach. > > I approached one of the lumps and poked it with a branch. The thing inside flailed around, exposing a tiny hole on its surface. I pierced the stick right through it and it started deflating as the clear liquid leaked out. The smell was rancid. Even after it stopped struggling, the membrane and substances kept leaking. I repeated the process with every last one. I hope I can break that thing just as easily. > I’ve fallen into the process of following that thing and stabbing its hole-spawn. I need to sleep, and it never does. This means whenever I loose track of it, I’m forced to follow the obvious trail of bodies that it leaves behind. > > It doesn’t seem to re-visit the same places twice, it just keeps moving along. It never gorges itself too much or waits until it’s stomach’s empty to eat whoever’s left. Compared to how much it eats, it leaves areas heavily populated. Once it’s made about five to six eggs it moves on. When there aren’t any people nearby, it searches locations for anyone and moves them to where it laid its eggs. > > There’s a process and reason in its actions, and that’s somehow worse than if it was just mindlessly eating people. Thankfully a few days ago it started producing eggs less frequently and in smaller amounts. I hope that what it's laid so far is its limit for the next decade. It still eats on occasion though. > There’s a fucking portal in the sky. > > I’m in a sports bar in the city. It’s on the TV screen, some low-budget news channel. They were reporting on the portal somewhere in a field. These guys were in the area and got real lucky. None of the major news networks must have caught wind of it before it was too late. It’s somewhere far off in ██████. That’s about twelve days away on foot. > Twelve is turning to an entire month, but I’ve had enough breaks. I’ve been looking behind allot on the way, expecting that thing to show up. But as long as I don’t hear anything aside from my own footsteps, that should be fine. But every footfall I make hits like a thousand. Every move I make is like a gunshot signalling my location. > > I keep thinking about that cup falling. > Holy shit. > > It’s my blood. > > I stopped by a town on the way and noticed a place that sold hunting supplies. I obviously took a few guns, not that I’m proficient. The main issue is that a bullet would pause mid-air. I figured I’d take them anyway, for the off chance that I could get close enough to shoot that thing at point-blank range. Then I thought about that cup. I got a catapult, then drew a bit of my own blood, and dabbed some onto a rock. It worked. The rock went flying off into the distance. > > There are limits, but I at least have more of a fighting chance now. Something that I can surprise that thing with. If it sees me, I can try and shoot it. But what about other things too? If my blood has the same range as when I touch something, maybe I could create a system of “unpausing” blood stains. I’ll need to figure this all out. Maybe even blood-stained bullets. > A few smears of blood… and done. I have a fully functioning car. > I made it there in practically no time. I had to regularly smear fresh blood onto the back of my car every few miles before the effect wore off. No point risking the backseat area suddenly pausing mid-drive. > > Even if it was chasing me, that thing can’t keep up with a moving vehicle. It’s fast and if it does try anything, I’m driving straight into it. > > I drove to the field and there was the portal, about ten meters above the ground. Didn’t waver, wasn’t moving, it was just still like everything else. Nothing had been setup around it, so the poor reporters must have been doing a segment on something completely unrelated at the time it appeared. Then I saw a van on the nearby road with “Scott Collin’s Pottery” written on the side of it. > > No compost or pottery supplies anywhere. Just a couple of guys in white polo shirts and a whole load of flashing computer screens. “Scott Collin’s Pottery”. I laughed my ass off, and I guess my pent up emotions just came flooding out, because I just lay inside the van, cackling. I needed that badly. Thank you, SCP Foundation. > > From the looks of things, they’d been examining the portal. One of them was making a phone call. I searched the van for quite some time, and eventually found some info, amongst which were some credentials and ID’s that belonged to the people inside. > > I managed to get the computers running again, it just took a bit of blood. Apparently this van came from a “Site-19” in [REDACTED]. The van would’ve been useful, but I don’t know how to drive one. > > I haven't seen that creature for a while now. Normally I run into it sooner or later, but it's been uncharacteristically distant as of recent. I never considered it before, but it doesn't seem to have vision, so heightened senses are a guarantee, and I'm the only other thing capable of making noise. So where is it now? > > If I run into it, I could try and just run it down with a car. But what if that doesn’t work? Then I’d have a pissed off monster chasing me. I’ve only survived this long by hiding, and it moves fast. Doubt I’d even be able to shoot it with blood-stained bullets. Well, I suppose I could try, but I don’t want to take that risk in case I miss. > > But there’s got to be something at Site-19. They know all about whatever this entity is, and likely a whole load of other things. I can probably learn something if I search the place. > I was driving to Site-19, when it showed up out of nowhere. It leapt right onto the hood of my car. I stared right into its faceless hole, but it didn’t stare back at me. I stopped and it clung onto the hood, digging straight through the metal. It settled for a moment, loosening its claws. So I reversed. It fell back, tried to cling on with a few claws before ultimately hitting the road. > > Couldn't find the balls to unwind the windows and take any shots. Instead, I closed my eyes and sped towards it. It took longer than expected to hit, so I opened my eyes and narrowly avoided slanting off the road and into the trees. It wasn’t there anymore. I applied some fresh blood to be safe and continued straight on. > > It’s fast enough to dodge a speeding car and quiet enough to hide if it needs to. It can be taken by surprise though. I hope it can feel other emotions. > I finally made it to Site-19. The whole area was fenced off and the actual building was about half a mile away through barren land, but once I got there the security was easy to deal with. There was plenty to stop people under normal circumstances, so I’m guessing that they didn’t have a fail safe for time stopping. > > I’ve wandered around the main building for a bit, There’s so many floors and rooms that I can’t access without having to break through a window or through other alternate vandalism. Fortunately some locked doors were open while everything paused. Elevators are an obvious no-go, so I’ll have to settle for the stairs. So I’m back to long walks again. I got a brief glance at some areas labeled things like “Containment Area” and “Safe Object Storage”. The word “SCP” kept on showing up practically everywhere, always with a random number next to it. > > I was able to use a few laptops that were charged enough to access certain on-site documents. But the real treasure-trove was what I found while searching for a safe place to hide. There was a storage area deep in the basement of the main building. There were no locks or restrictions, but there was a load of filing cabinets containing old paper documents. Most information will have been digitized by now, so this must all be older research that’s been archived. > > I’m going to have a read tonight, once I’ve set up a place to sleep and ensured that I’m alone. There should be able to find something interesting. > Wow fuck. > > Most of this place is white and grey walls, uncarpeted corridors with identical ceiling lights, and allot of people in lab coats. Even areas where they shouldn’t be wearing them. > > But then you look inside the rooms. Only some of them have windows, but I have their photographs on file as reference. There’s surrealist artwork in glass tanks that look like they shouldn’t be alive, seemingly mundane objects like TV remotes, [[[SCP-978 Extended Test Logs|cameras]]], and phones, all sealed behind layers of bulletproof glass. That piñata looks too mundane for it's own good... The ominous sphere of flesh, that dog with the glasses... Nothing’s the same in a way that feels real. Even when I’ve seen or read enough, there’s something more that I didn’t expect. I don’t even know what half of this stuff does, but you can tell it’s all just waiting to do it. And some of the testing logs for these things are [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/experiment-log-t-98816-oc108-682|fucking long]]]. > > But I can’t see any of that happen. I could risk it, touch a few items and unfreeze them. I might end up destroying them or turning myself into orange goo. So I just have to keep them locked away. The most fantastical things in the world all trapped behind glass and concrete. > > I keep re-reading about most of the things contained here, and anomalies contained in other sites that apparently span the globe. This should all be mind-blowing, but I can’t even feel the significance. No matter the implications of their existences, I just can’t feel any of it while that thing’s outside and I’m in here. > There’s SCPs that apparently send you to other worlds, but I’m stuck here with a monster. There are creatures tearing other worlds apart, and here I am wishing they could all move again. I’d imagine the Foundation probably feels this way most of the time too. “Yeah, the evil Santa Clause demon that turns people into toy slaves got out, but most of us are preoccupied with that sentient meteorite that’s currently heading straight towards us.” Threat vs imminence, I guess. I finally made it here and I can’t even feel solace in getting to examine some anomalies up-close. > It's here. I can't believe I didn't figure it out sooner. > > It wasn't a coincidence that it jumped me on the road. I've been exposing myself to its spawn constantly. Airborne traces too minute for me to smell must have seeped into the fabric of my clothing and other equipment. My blood can un-pause things temporarily, so it must be the same thing. So it can has an easier time honing in on its offspring. > > That's why it stopped laying as much but kept eating. it's not out of season at all, it was just waiting for me to make myself vulnerable. > > It's been about two days now. I've blocked off my initial entrance, but I can't leave the main building. I can't access an armoury or anything like that. I'll be ok for a while, but that only means I'm waiting for it to break in. [Blank page] > When I was reading through some documents, I found this: > > **Log of Anomalous Items:** > > **Item Description:** Elizabeth Morris, daughter of Foundation researcher, Rachel Morris. Subject is unaffected by the cessation of time and other similar phenomena, however shows no means of controlling it at present. Origin of anomalous properties believed to simply be fortuitous. > **Date of Recovery:** ██-██-19██ > **Location of Recovery:** [REDACTED], United States. > **Current Status:** Amnesticized following confirmation of their anomalous properties. Subject currently resides in [REDACTED]. Dr. Morris continues to monitor the subject remotely on a bi-monthly basis. > She knew. I should be shocked, but I can't even feel surprised. I'm more surprised by my own lack of surprise. With everything in here, am I really that amazed? The Foundation can easily erase memories. In comparison, most things aren’t that far fetched anymore. Foundation employees are used to almost anything that I could imagine, right? > > Did she have me wiped so I could continue living free and safe? Or was it just standard protocol? Maybe she just wanted to distance me from all of this as much as possible. > > I want to just forget about all of this and explore the halls of the Foundation. I want to work here and study the anomalies, talk with the friendly SCP's, share notes with that cat walking around in a lab coat, tell everyone what 055 really is. > > I thought I was needed here. I wanted to believe there was a special reason for being the only one left unpaused. Those were just childish delusions. The reality is I stepped into another world that was already done with me. > > I've only been playing researcher, taking notes and investigating. I can’t have that. Now I have to actually get results. > > From what I’ve read, there’s an anomaly that stands out in comparison to others. With allot of SCP’s, there’s a level of unpredictability in their anomalous properties. Seriously, the number of times an unspeakably horrific thing happened during a test that nobody saw coming… It seems that they eventually just started assuming all anomalies were fucked up on the offset to save on personnel and resources. Saved them a tonne of D-Class over the years at least. > > This SCP keeps popping up in cross-testing documents and always seems to have something to it that’s… unique? Like it doesn’t always follow the rules set even by other anomalies. I may be putting all of my faith into a theory, but it’ll be at the door any day now. At least if everything eventually un-pauses again, I’ll have left something to explain this whole situation. > It didn’t work. The world remains still. I failed, but I don’t care. At least for a little while though, I won’t be alone. That guy will probably have paused again once I’ve finished writing this, but it’s nice to think they’re enjoying the freedom to move while they can. Then it's back in the containment chamber, buddy. > > Too summarise: It broke in through one of the barricaded entrances, didn’t un-pause any of the debris I’d placed above. I hid as many entrances to areas where personnel were as I could. I improvised quite a few barricades from what I could gather, made sure to include plenty of shrapnel and broken glass. Nothing it touches is affected by gravity, but at least it’s moans were enough noise to alert me to its whereabouts. > > The entrance to the containment chamber was locked, but the room had a viewing window for monitoring tests installed just below the ceiling. Earlier, I broke through it and fed a collapsible ladder into the chamber. > > Once I heard it was close enough, I slid down, slit my palm again just to be sure, smeared blood across the back, and then fired off a few more rounds. I positioned myself just as it landed in the chamber. I doubt it could’ve even used the ladder, but I made sure to knock it over beforehand, in case it tried climbing back out. It was covered in cuts, gasping as glass fell out from it’s face hole. I started to feel heavy. It crawled around, surveying the chamber for any movement. Then my eyes started to droop as it picked up on my breathing. I saw it moving towards me, and then I closed my eyes. > > It almost sounded like it was wrenching. There was a crash as it hit the floor and it’s breathing got more strained as it scratched at the concrete. The desperation in its weakening breathes was enough to make me consider opening my eyes for a split second just to take a peak. Then I just fell back against the wall and hit the floor, perfectly in time to hear that loud, satisfying crunch. I felt dizzy for a second and opened my eyes, just before I passed out. > > I’ll never forget the image of [[[SCP-173]]] with it’s arms around that faceless fucker’s broken neck. > > When I awoke, it was still dead on the floor and the ladder was set back up. A few blood flecks stained the handles. I climbed out and was relieved to find nobody with a broken neck. I never even considered that 173 could climb ladders. > > I wandered the halls for a while, taking in the grey walls and white lab coats, didn't even look at any anomalies now that I had the chance. Then I noticed that the sculpture had appeared right next to me. I moved far away enough from it before blinking again. Instead of going for me, it just took a left down the hallway. My blood was still noticeably coating its back. > > I should have guessed that killing that thing wouldn't have undone the pause. Too easy, not complicated or inconvenient enough. There's probably a solution I'm not seeing, or I might never find one. Right now I'm just relieved that I could achieve something at least. I wonder if I earned that lab coat yet? > > I went to the roof of the main building and stared out at the surrounding barrens. The sun still refused to move. It’s time I learned about all of these things. These gruesome, silly, fantastical things. Then maybe I’ll learn to fix all of this? I’ll see what I can do, or at least try. Hopefully I’ll see the sunset one day. **Addendum:** Following investigations, a formerly vacant room in the sub-level of Site-19 was found to contain items and furnishings previously not present. This included various recreational items, furniture, a multitude of books, research papers and SCP documents; and photographs taken in a variety of locations. Amongst these possessions was a collection of handwritten journals recording numerous travels throughout the United States and neighbouring countries. These feature extensive logs mapping out SCP-8021-3's travel destination routes and activities which they partook. Logs noting miscellaneous details such as vehicles borrowed for transportation, their fuel usage, adjustments to locations, and food taken for consumption have also been written down. A majority of these travels seem to have been to areas where certain SCP items are contained. Inspection confirmed none of these items to have been breached. The corpse of a recently deceased woman was found in a kingsized bed within the chamber. DNA testing later confirmed their identity as SCP-8021-3, who is estimated to have died in their mid-eighties. The corpse was found to be non-anomalous. Apart from the incidents mentioned in Document 8021-3, no other anomalies were found outside of containment. Amongst the recovered documents were research papers confirming several theories regarding anomalous time manipulation in a near-timeless environment. These documents have been passed onto the Department of Horology for further confirmation. The content of these documents propose that the author had an advanced understanding of time-related anomalies and similar phenomena. It is possible that SCP-8021-3 eventually learned the true nature of SCP-8021 at some point before finally passing away. **Update:** Full containment of SCP-8021 has been completed in only six months. [[footnoteblock]] [[div class="footer-wikiwalk-nav"]] [[=]] << [[[SCP-8020]]] | SCP-8021 | [[[SCP-8022]]] >> [[/=]] [[/div]]