SCP-9293

Link to article: SCP-9293.
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=====
[[include :scp-wiki:component:preview
|text=Maple VI — Your ability to care has atrophied.]]
=====
[[include :scp-wiki:info:start]]
"VKTM and The Factory" by [[[Maplestrip]]]

A fun, light-hearted tale.
[[include :scp-wiki:info:end]]
[[table style="border: none; width: 100%;"]]
[[row]]
[[cell]]
[[size 125%]]**Item #:** SCP-9293[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[cell style="text-align: right;"]]
[[size 125%]]###990000|**Level 3/9293**##[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]
[[row]]
[[cell]]
[[size 125%]]**Object Class:** Euclid[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[cell style="text-align: right;"]]
[[size 125%]]###990000|**Classified**##[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]
[[/table]]
----

[[div class="scp-image-block block-center" style="width:100%;"]]
[[image https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/5e/PSM_V39_D310_A_woolen_mule.jpg {$alt}="{$alt-text}" link=#]]
[[div class="scp-image-caption"]]
Spinning mule.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

----


**Containment Procedures:** The faces of SCP-9293 are to be plastered with a façade resembling a modern office complex. The structure is branded as Busenes Consultancy, a minor Web presence is maintained, but interested customers are to be redirected to appropriate genuine consultancy firms.

The suburb of Homewood is to be rezoned for industrial and business. Inhabitants are to be amnesticized and relocated.

A tarp is to be placed on top of SCP-9293 to protect it from rainfall.

**Description:** SCP-9293 is a 100-meter[[footnote]]While SCP-9293 is functionally 40 meters tall, its intricate foundations extend 60 meters into the ground.[[/footnote]] reinforced concrete cube partially embedded in the ground in Homewood, Birmingham, Alabama. SCP-9293 manifested suddenly on September 2, 2025, at 06:00. Prior to this, the location of SCP-9293 was occupied by 9 full and 3 partial single-family households on Maple Street and Roseland Drive.[[footnote]]The cube also clipped a portion of the Williams-family bathroom and various lawn ornaments.[[/footnote]]

While SCP-9293 is stable, its concrete is of low, flaky quality, and its rebar is in a severe state of rust. As such, it can easily be penetrated, but care must be taken not to disturb its structural integrity. A collapse of SCP-9293 would cause unpredictable damage to neighboring buildings.

**Addendum 1:** Exploration log

Internal scouting of SCP-9293 was approved on January 2, 2026. The structure was infiltrated by a Plx model 2 cockroach-sized remote-control exploration drone. A log of its venture is provided below. Future explorations of SCP-9293 are pending approval.

[[div class="blockquote"]]
[[=]]
[[size 125%]] **January 3, 2026** [[/size]]
**Shell corridor**
[[/=]]

----

= **[BEGIN LOG]**

= //Concrete detritus makes way to reveal an undecorated concrete hallway. 30 meters to the left, a hewn stairway leads up. 20 meters to the right, a staircase leads down. Four doorways lead to rooms deeper in the structure. The hallway is lit by objects in the ceiling resembling fluorescent lightbulbs. Digital artifacts in the video stream suggest the lamps contain high-density ectoplasm.//

= //Plx hugs the outer wall as it rolls in the direction of the descending staircase. Thick steel pipes line the wall and readings from the Plx vibration sensor suggest that a thick liquid is slowly and irregularly pumped up from the stairwell. Plx angles its camera downward. The fissure in the concrete is obfuscated by darkness; vision extends no further than 2 meters down. Plx' microphone captures the anguished screams of at least two individuals, resonating from the hole.//

= //Plx is directed to turn around and investigate the doorways. Rebar protrudes from the sides of the arches as though they were cut out roughly. The interior room is approximately 15 by 20 meters. It contains two wooden frameworks consisting of joists and supports, surrounded by sandy rubble and lined in some places with molten glass. Several plastic and wooden objects are recognizable inside wooden skeleton, such as tables, TV shells, a kitchen counter, and a bed-frame. The structures appear to match two houses that were previously located there, but all metallic objects, silicate objects, and fabrics have been stripped away.//

= //While Plx rolls into the room, a speaking voice is registered on its microphones. The drone is directed back out of the room, and towards a second doorway. Two individuals are present in this room, working at a device that looks and functions similarly to an 18th-century spinning mule. A red fiber is held in large bobbins on top of the machine.//

**Sarah:**[[footnote]]Sarah Campbell, 41-year old resident of Maple Street 107. A single mother to Isaac, age 8. Employed at a Birmingham catering company.[[/footnote]] What does it look like? I cut myself again.

**Manuel:**[[footnote]]Manuel Cruz, 32-year old resident of Roseland Drive 141. Unmarried. Worked as a software consultant and ran a long-running //Dungeons & Dragons// podcast series.[[/footnote]] Here, have some alcohol.

**Sarah:** Thanks. Whoever's idea it was to leave the base of the handles unfinished should be fired.

**Manuel:** //Laughs// – They sure keep things interesting.

= //Plx, remaining unnoticed, is directed to a corner of the room where it has full sight over the activities. The spinning mule is 8 meters wide and 3 meters tall, allowing it to spin dozens of threads simultaneously. The two workers manually push and pull its spindle-carriage back and forth to spin the fabric, regularly correcting errors in the threads. Both individuals are wearing McDonald's work uniforms. Their hair is trimmed short and their hands are thickly callused. After disinfecting her hand, Sarah takes a swig of the rubbing alcohol, then hands the bottle back to Manuel.//

**Sarah:** Jeez-us, that stuff is rancid.

**Manuel:** //laughs// – It's not really for drinking.

**Sarah:** Then they shouldn't've put alcohol in the name. Doesn't matter though, it serves its purpose just as well.

**Manuel:** Careful with this stuff. You're bound to make more mistakes if you're tipsy.

**Sarah:** I hate making mistakes.

**Manuel:** Yeah.

**Mollie:**[[footnote]]Mollie Landrew, 29-year old resident of Maple Street 105. Long-term relationship with journalist Mike Zorensky (not victimized; since amnesticized and relocated). Offered semi-professional massages.[[/footnote]] And you know what happens when you make too many mistakes!

**Sarah:** Jesus fuck!

= //Mollie Landrew steps into the room holding an iron crate filled with dark red material. A red liquid drips from the crate and her hands, staining her otherwise white apron.//

**Manuel:** We didn't see you there, Mollie. You sure gave us quite a spook!

**Mollie:** You were focused so deeply on your work?

**Manuel:** Of course!

**Mollie:** Good! I have more work for you. The fellows downstairs have carded and combed two more crates. One's still downstairs. Sarah, can you pick it up?

**Sarah:** Can– Can I wait until we finish this batch?

**Mollie:** Oh Sarah, you know it's best to spin the material while it's still moist and squishy! Look at how dry this has gotten. Was this processed last night? Remove and untangle those bobbins and put this new batch up. You can finish that old batch tonight if you can get ahead of the combing team again.

**Manuel:** We'll see if we can catch up.

**Mollie:** That's the spirit! Now let me just put this box down and I'll be out of your hair.

= //Mollie steps towards the corner of the room and places the metal crate on top of Plx, crushing it. Footsteps are heard walking out of the room.//

**Sarah:** What a bitch.

**Manuel:** I know right?

**Sarah:** //Groans// – I really can't deal with another //pointless// bobbin swap. There's only half an hour left in these damnit, we could've creeled it. Now we're gonna get so many breakages and it's such a fucking waste of time. I want to push Mollie's stupid smile between the rails and the draw bands. Of course we're behind the fucking carders because they're doing a piss-poor job we constantly have to fix.

**Manuel:** Let's just get it over with. Here, I'll start with this one. You take a moment and then we'll pick up the big one together.

= **[END LOG]**

[[/div]]

Further dialogue was limited and perfunctory, and control decided to shut Plx down for diagnostics. Mobility, gyroscope, internal cooling, and self-defense functionalities were destroyed in the impact. External sensors appeared fully-functional, but its camera received limited signals in its position underneath the crate. Its antenna could no longer be extended, but its communications were otherwise unaffected. Plx carried 26 hours of battery life at this time.

Operations team adviced that Plx could keep serving as a bug, but recommended not to keep it turned on for longer than ten minute to limit both overheating and digital corruption. Site Direction did not approve of a new penetrative mission during this financial quarter.

[[div class="blockquote"]]
[[=]]
[[size 125%]] **January 4, 2026** [[/size]]
**Spinning room**
[[/=]]

----

= **[BEGIN LOG]**

= //Limited to no visual data, as the crate is still positioned on top of Plx. Anguished screaming is audible from outside of the room, as is the arhythmic thumping and clicking of the spinning mule. SCP-9293 victims are actively working and conversing.//

**Manuel:** The party did get wiped one floor down. We were out of spell slots after that whole ordeal, and the DM didn't go easy on us. But it was pretty awesome that we got as deep in the dungeon as we did.

**Sarah:** Can you clean the stick on the next outward run?

**Manuel:** Uh, yeah, sure.

= //30 seconds of no audio besides the ambient shrieking.//

**Manuel:** Done, I'm out, you can push it back in!

**Sarah:** Alright.

**Manuel:** I'm getting really tired of the constant crying from downstairs. At first it kept me awake but at this point it's having the opposite effect. It's been driving me crazy lately.

**Sarah:** I guess we could call HR to see if they can do something about it.

= //Sarah begins bashing the concrete wall with her fists and howling.//

**Mollie:** You called?

**Manuel:** Ah, hi, yeah, I was wondering. Uhm, is there anything you could do about the noise from downstairs?

**Mollie:** You mean the harvest?

**Manuel:** Yeah, it might affect my efficiency over time. I know you can't do anything about the machinery, but maybe you can give us earplugs or something?

**Mollie:** Hmm, well, earplugs aren't really an option. That would block you from hearing your machine and coworkers. However! I could provide you with some music. Here.

= //Twenty seconds of no dialogue pass. A crackling radio slowly tunes into a channel. "A Sky Full of Stars" by Coldplay begins playing.//

**Mollie:** There we go. The Factory provides for its workers' needs.

**Sarah:** This works.

**Manuel:** Urgh, I hate Coldplay.

= **[END LOG]**

[[/div]]

The radio, while having limited and inconsistent reception, is tuned to WREN, an Alabama contemporary pop-rock radio station. Dialogue over the next several days is limited to functional utterings and occasional comments on the radio's programming.

[[div class="blockquote"]]
[[=]]
[[size 125%]] **January 9, 2026** [[/size]]
**Spinning room**
[[/=]]

----

= **[BEGIN LOG]**

= //The crate was removed on January 5, allowing better vision of the work floor. Sarah and Manuel are working the machine. The radio is playing "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol, but the reception is exceedingly poor. During the second chorus, the signal breaks down into noise entirely.//

**Sarah:** Oh come on, again?

= //Sarah walks to the radio and begins banging on it with the palm of her hand.//

**Manuel:** I never liked Snow Patrol anyway.

**Sarah:** All you do is complain about the music.

**Manuel:** I'm not sure soft rock is actually better than the shrieking.

**Sarah:** You like Keane.

**Manuel:** Yeah Keane is pretty good.

**Sarah:** I think the sound is clearing up.

= [[span style="color:purple"]]Welcome to the 4 AM VKTM news. I am your host Steve Hyde.[[/span]]

**Sarah:** VKTM? Did the station change?

**Manuel:** I wouldn't mind that.

= [[span style="color:purple"]]It has been an exciting season in war. Just last night, the Sudanese Armed Forces went head-to-head against the Sudanese Rapid Support Forces in a match-up that could've really gone either way. The RSF held onto El Fasher well unto overtime, but in the end the SAF won the match 800 to 2,100. The RSF might have a hard time recovering from losing so many players! The SAF is set to move on to the next league, where they'll soon face off against the United States Armed Forces.[[/span]]

**Sarah:** What the fuck?

= [[span style="color:purple"]]The big question is, of course, who will go home with the coveted Genocide Cup? Next up, in local politics, Davie Mynehan of the Democrats fought Joseph Slumbaugh of the Republicans in a one-on-one debate. While it initially looked like Mynehan could hold his own, his defensive stance could not survive Slumbaugh's relentless attacks. The Democratic representative went knock-out in the 21st minute and has been eliminated.[[/span]]

**Manuel:** This is actually pretty funny. Is he doing a bit?

= [[span style="color:purple"]]Last night's Hewlett-Packard City Center fire resulted in 6 deaths and 20 injured. We reached out to City of Birmingham Fire Department star-player Susan McAffey, and she had the following to say: "It was a long night, it was a difficult game, but I think we did really well. We scored some goals, saved some people, and we'll come back stronger next time." The fire was a late win for Cheap Christmas Lights and Decorations; this was their highest scoring game of the season.[[/span]]

**Sarah:** Who is this for?

= [[span style="color:purple"]]Now, dear listener, I hand you over to my trusted colleague Steven Jeckyll for sports news.[[/span]][[footnote]]Despite this claim, the radio's voice did not alter.[[/footnote]] [[span style="color:purple"]]Thank you, Steve. Yesterday was predominantly characterized by football, and today that won't be any different. The forecast for tonight is football, football, and more football. While most of the country is hit by good old American football, there's a chance of soccer in the eastern parts of the state. Further north, you might be hit by a fit of ice hockey, so stay warm.[[/span]]

**Sarah:** He's not even telling us anything about the sports?

**Manuel:** I think he's talking about sports like it's the weather.

**Sarah:** What the fuck is the point of that?

**Manuel:** It's pretty funny.

= [[span style="color:purple"]]So prepare your coats for a heavy season of basketball. Now back to you, Steve, for the weather.[[/span]]

= [[span style="color:purple"]]Thank you, Steven.[[/span]]

= [[span style="color:purple"]]At least twelve people have died so far in what is set to be the coldest winter in Alabama history. Temperatures were recorded at -8 degrees in Birmingham and -15 degrees in Huntsville. Residents in rural areas are snowed in and cannot be reached. The US 80 and 90 have mostly been cleared of snow, but like last week slippery conditions have resulted in car crashes becoming routine. At least 40 deaths have been attributed to car-related accidents in the past–[[/span]]

= //The radio recedes into noise, before fading into "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons.//

**Sarah:** Oh God, my sister lives in Huntsville.

**Manuel:** Surely that can't be real. It's just a big joke, right?

**Sarah:** I can't stay here, I gotta get out.

**Manuel:** Sarah, Sarah, listen to me, this was a show where the war was a sports match and sports was talked about like the weather. It wasn't real. And even if it were, what would you even do out there? We would have to shelter in place anyway, there's nothing we can do!

= //Manuel pushes the carriage of the spinning mule in and out.//

**Manuel:** Let's just wait until the end of our shift, and then we'll see.[[footnote]]Sarah and Manuel have never been seen leaving the room.[[/footnote]] Now come on, there's a ton of breakages to fix.

= //Sarah walks back to the machine and continues her work.//

= **[END LOG]**

[[/div]]

The spinning room radio continued to pick up WREN for the following days within Plx' operation times. The relationship between GoI-5889 ("VKTM", a known anomalous group of interest) and SCP-9293 has become the primary interest of this mission. Due to weather conditions, launching new missions has become infeasible.


[[div class="blockquote"]]
[[=]]
[[size 125%]] **January 12, 2026** [[/size]]
**Spinning room**
[[/=]]

= **[BEGIN LOG]**

= //Sarah finishes creeling a bobbin of material while the radio plays Ed Sheeran's "Photograph". Like before, the audio recedes into noise before a clear voice becomes audible.//

= [[span style="color:purple"]]Our team at VKTM radio has prepared a very special show for you tonight, ladies and gentlemen. We are in Alabama Adventure, just–[[/span]]

= **Manuel:** Oh, it's VKTM, cool!

= **Sarah:** Are these the people who did the quiz show about dying orphans?[[footnote]]Presumably a VKTM broadcast instance that occurred while Plx was hibernating.[[/footnote]]

= **Manuel:** //shushes//

= [[span style="color:purple"]]That's right, we are giving these people the thrill of their lives! Ten hours ago, we stopped a rollercoaster dead in its tracks. Of course, in this frosty weather, just being stuck in restraints at all would've been an exhilarating life-or-death scenario for young and old. However, we at VKTM always go the extra mile, and this being a looping coaster, what is more exciting than being stuck upside down?[[/span]]

= **Sarah:** God...

= //A tapping noise is heard on the radio.//

= [[span style="color:purple"]]Don't worry, these restraints will hold them. Sure, their shoulders will be quite sore, but so will the rest of their body, so it balances out. Let's go in and interview our lucky theme park enjoyers. Hi there, you with the long hair, how is it hanging?[[/span]]

= //A slurred feminine voice speaks slowly.//

= [[span style="color:purple"]]"Am I hallucinating? Am I going to hell?"[[/span]]

= [[span style="color:purple"]]If I may say so, the dangling has given you a lovely complexion! Your head is almost as beat-red as my own, but I particularly like how pale and blue your hands are looking. Reminds me of the eyes of my first love.[[/span]]

= [[span style="color:purple"]]"Water. Heat. Please. Do something."[[/span]]

= [[span style="color:purple"]]If you wanted water, you should've gone to Alabama //Splash// Adventure! But of course, they are not open today due to the cold weather. I can smell you have released some water from your bladder a few hours ago though. Did you do that to warm you up? Because I think the liquid only really cools your body down faster.[[/span]]

= [[span style="color:purple"]]"Please let me go."[[/span]]

= [[span style="color:purple"]]Oh why didn't you say so earlier?[[/span]]

= //A click is heard on the radio, followed by a brief screaming sound.//

= [[span style="color:purple"]]Now that's the kind of excitement we like to provide people. Let's move on to this next person. Hi there, good sir, how are you doing?[[/span]]

= //No response is audible.//

= [[span style="color:purple"]]I see you're the kind of person who keeps their eyes closed on the ride. That's fine, of course. I was just wondering: Do you feel stuck in place? Do you feel wedged in a position where you can't move?[[/span]]

= //No response.//

= [[span style="color:purple"]]Do you feel like your lack of choices in life have left you frozen? Do you feel like you've been ensnared by a system that you didn't design?[[/span]]

= //No response.//

= [[span style="color:purple"]]Do you feel like you've just lived your life one day at a time, always assuming that someday things would fit together and you'd feel right where you are, but it just never did? Like you've pigeonholed yourself according to other people's expectations, and then could never imagine a way that things could be different?[[/span]]

= //No response.//

= [[span style="color:purple"]]No? Well, alright then. We'll be back in ten more hours to see how these jolly mavericks have been doing. Until then–[[/span]]

= //The radio fades back to WREN, which is playing an advertisement for a travel agency.//

**Sarah:** This show is weird.

**Manuel:** Yeah.

**Sarah:** You can push the carriage back in by the way.

**Manuel:** Oh, yeah, sorry.

= **[END LOG]**

[[/div]]


During the recording after this, the audio processor of Plx malfunctioned and broke down. Sound recording became impossible until January 24, when the Foundation technical team succeeded in wirelessly reprogramming the Plx miniature speaker array to capture audio. Further recordings are of low quality and required thorough post-processing to become legible.

During this two-week span between these audio recordings, Plx' camera regularly recorded footage of Manuel Cruz and Sarah Campbell working the unconventional spinning mule. When sound-recording returned, Plx already recorded three hours of them running the machine and piecing breakages and moving the carriages back and forth.


[[div class="blockquote"]]
[[=]]
[[size 125%]] **January 24, 2026** [[/size]]
**Spinning room**
[[/=]]

= //The sound of the machine overwhelms the recording, peaking the audio output as it is adjusted. A muttering is heard from the radio that slowly becomes more legible.//

= [[span style="color:purple"]]Why are you even[[/span]] //[inaudible]// [[span style="color:purple"]]eventhough all you're doing[[/span]] //[inaudible]// [[span style="color:purple"]]I'm talking to you, Sarah. To you, directly, Sarah Campbell, wasting away at[[/span]] //[inaudible]// [[span style="color:purple"]]your son. Remember his name? We do. It is[[/span]] //[inaudible]// [[span style="color:purple"]]working hard for you, as you are for him.[[/span]]

= [[span style="color:purple"]]But are you actually working for him? Or are you working for[[/span]] //[inaudible]// [[span style="color:purple"]]but is it possible to work for people who don't even know your name, who don't even look you in the eye when they take[[/span]] //[inaudible]// [[span style="color:purple"]]everything from you. Every single scrap of humanity. You know this, Sarah. When you are at a festival[[/span]] //[inaudible]// [[span style="color:purple"]]No, you're wasting your life away. You know this, Sarah. You tell yourself you work behind the scenes to give people a good time, but[[/span]] //[inaudible]// [[span style="color:purple"]] You don't actually give a shit about what kind of time they have.[[/span]]

= //The screaming of SCP-9293 victims as recorded on the day 1 of the mission becomes audible in the background of the radio broadcast. This ambient sound may have been playing at lower volumes  before, as it continues to rise in volume as the host speaks.//

= [[span style="color:purple"]]Your ability to care has atrophied. You've been doing this for so long that it's become second nature to block out 90% of your brain at all times. At work you ignore your [[/span]] //[inaudible]// [[span style="color:purple"]]at home you shut out all memories of work or the stress will drive you mad. Nothing real remains, not even[[/span]] //[inaudible]// [[span style="color:purple"]]You do not have the time to consider spending the energy thinking about anything that would give your life meaning.[[/span]]

= [[span style="color:purple"]]You're no longer a person, Sarah. You're not even a tool, because a tool has a purpose. You go through the motions because that is all you know to do. It is no longer that you're vulnerable to abuse. No, you have become one with abuse and don't even know it.[[/span]]

= [[span style="color:purple"]]Anyway, that is the end of our show today. We will conclude with playing the rest of The Factory's latest album, not available anywhere. I hope you enjoy the soothing sounds of your own consciousness being smothered. Until next time[[/span]] //[inaudible]// [[span style="color:purple"]] especially you, Sarah. Especially you.[[/span]]

**Manuel:** Damn, Sarah, you were on the radio.

**Sarah:** Hmm? What?

**Manuel:** Eh, nevermind.

= //The anguished screams of SCP-9293 victims continues to resonate on the radio for the next 30 minutes before returning to regular programming.//

= **[END LOG]**

[[/div]]

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<< [[[SCP-9292]]] | SCP-9293 | [[[SCP-9294]]] >>
[[/=]]
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[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]]
=====
> **Filename:** PSM V39 D310 A woolen mule.jpg
> **Author:** Popular Science Monthly
> **License:** Public domain
> **Source Link:** https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:PSM_V39_D310_A_woolen_mule.jpg
=====
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]
SCP-9293

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