SCP-3000

ITEM #: SCP-3000

OBJECT CLASS: THAUMIEL

Site Responsible: INWBKL Site-151

Director: Kerry Eckelkamp

Research Head: David Bell

Assigned Task Force: SCPF Eremita

Level 5/3000

CLASSIFIED SCP-3000 and Foundation diver during Atzak Protocol.

Special Containment Procedures: The area containing SCP-3000, currently a region of the Bay of Bengal roughly 300km in diameter, is to be routinely patrolled by Foundation naval vessels. Under no circumstances are civilians allowed to attempt deep sea exploration or diving efforts in the quarantined area. Individuals believed to have contacted SCP-3000 are to be contained, quarantined, and processed at Site-151. Individuals affected by the anomalous properties of SCP-3000 are to be held in containment indefinitely.

The Foundation submarine SCPF Eremita is to monitor the location of the foremost section of SCP-3000, currently located within the Ganges Fan, roughly 0.7km beneath the Bay. The Eremita is tasked with carrying out the Atzak Protocol, and staffing regulations onboard the vessel are subject to the guidelines of that protocol. For a full description of the Atzak Protocol, see Addendum 3000.2.

There is currently no known cure for exposure to SCP-3000; as such, affected individuals should be contained and quarantined for further evaluation. Individuals stationed aboard the SCPF Eremita are not permitted to leave the vessel except for the purposes of carrying out the necessary procedures of the Atzak Protocol. Individuals who leave the vessel without proper authorization are to be considered lost.

Under no circumstances should any individual interact with SCP-3000 without authorization.

Description: SCP-3000 is a massive, aquatic, serpentine entity strongly resembling a giant moray eel (Gymnothorax javanicus). The full length of SCP-3000 is impossible to determine, but is hypothesized to be between 600 and 900 kilometers. The head of SCP-3000 measures roughly 2.5m in diameter, and sections of the body proper are as large as 10m in diameter.

SCP-3000 is typically a sedentary creature, only moving its head in response to certain stimuli or during feeding. The majority of its body is located in and around the Ganges Fan1, and rarely moves at all.

SCP-3000 is carnivorous, and despite its sedentary nature is capable of moving quickly to dispatch prey. Despite its size, it is hypothesized that SCP-3000 does not require sustenance to maintain its biological functions2. While SCP-3000 excretes a thin layer of a viscous, dark grey substance classified as Y-909 (see Addendum 3000.2 below) through its skin as it consumes prey, the end result of its digestive processes is currently unknown.

SCP-3000 is a Class VIII cognitohazardous entity; direct observation of SCP-3000 may cause severe mental alterations in viewers. Individuals who directly observe SCP-3000, as well as any individuals within an uncertain distance of SCP-3000, experience inexplicable head pain, paranoia, general fear and panic, and memory loss or alteration. The following is a log from Site-151's historical records, written by Dr. Eugene Getts, about initial discovery of SCP-3000 and the effects felt therein:

SCPF Eremita diving towards contact site.

Discovery: SCP-3000 was discovered in 1971, shortly after two Bangladeshi fishing boats and fifteen fishermen were reported missing after drifting near the Indian coast. As the country of Bangladesh had only been recently established at the time and had been subject to significant political persecution on the part of Pakistan, this incident received high profile media attention due to fears that it was a result of foreign aggression. Local coastal dispatch units could not locate the missing boats, fueling further media hysteria.

Foundation researchers stationed in Calcutta (now Kolkata) drew similarities between this disappearance and another incident two years earlier. A thorough search aided by Mariotte-Pashler Counters revealed the location of the two boats, as well as an unknown, previously undiscovered mass deep below the surface of the Bay of Bengal. Further investigation by Foundation divers discovered the existence of SCP-3000.

The area was quickly secured, and current containment procedures were put in place in April of 1972; the Atzak Protocol was adapted in October of 1998.

Addendum 3000.1: Initial Contact Exploration Log

''Note: The following is the transcript of audio logs taken during initial deep-sea diver contact with SCP-3000. Until this point, no Foundation diver had come within 300m of SCP-3000. Divers were tasked with assessing the creature, and determining the source of the thick, grey fluid that had been observed floating around its head.''

''Dive team was composed of three members of MTF Orion-9 “Kingfishers”, lead by MTF O-9 Alpha. Launch point was through the airlock of the Foundation submarine SCPF Stravinsky. All divers were equipped with high-pressure suits, as well as front-facing headlamps. Additionally, a tether was connected to MTF O-9 Alpha, which was then connected in a “T” shape out to both Bravo and Foxtrot.''

''Over the next half hour, the SCPF Stravinsky attempted to approach O-9 Bravo, with no success. Command continued to attempt to communicate with O-9 Bravo, but Bravo grew increasingly unintelligible, before eventually going completely silent. Bravo's radio stayed active over the next three days, and intermittent breathing could be heard until the radio ceased functioning.''

Addendum 3000.2: Atzak Protocol

Addendum 3000.3: Psychological Evaluation

Dr. Venkatraman Krishnamoorthy

''Note: On ██/██09, Level 3 Researcher Venkatraman Krishnamoorthy attempted to exit out the Eremita's aft airlock without diving equipment, but was quickly restrained and the airlock cycle aborted. Despite having a CRV of 26, and having not displayed any previous signs of depression or suicidal attempt prior to his assignment aboard the Eremita, Krishnamoorthy was interviewed by staff clinical psychologist Dr. Anand Mannava to acquire a better understanding of SCP-3000's potential effect on his psyche.''

Addendum 3000.4: Incident Video and Audio Log

Addendum 3000.5: Personal Journal of Dr. Mannava

''Note: The following are excerpts from the personal diaries of Dr. Anand Mannava. Dr. Mannava has kept several journals during his assignment, and has reported that it is beneficial to counteract the psychological and memory-affecting properties of SCP-3000.''

23/09/2009

I come to bury Venkat, not to praise him.

Psychologically speaking, having your memories affected like his is not a pleasant experience for anyone. I really shouldn't be surprised he chose to relieve himself from having his memories meddled with - after all, it's really alarming. Being briefed on its effects doesn't change the fact that I need to constantly keep tabs on all staff, myself included, and ground us to reality. I am supposed to submit a full psychological report now, detailing what has gone wrong, why a staff member turned suicidal, and a full analysis of possible ways to prevent this from happening again in the future, to the O5 and Site Director Nox, have it reviewed and some new regimen designed to prevent such a travesty from happening again.

He always was more religious than I am. Right at the end of his life he was riffing on Anantashesha - a primordial Hindu snake god - and rambling about eternity. I'm not going to question the legitimacy of his beliefs and his claims, but this is quite the enigma, and I suppose I should consider myself lucky that this assignment is relatively benign compared to previous assignments that I've had. I don't think this is a mythical eel - anomalous, maybe, but not really that extraordinary. It's funny - I spent the last thirty years blocking out everything my father wanted to teach me about Hinduism and now I'm racking my brains trying to remember anything he had to say about it.

I want to say that it's because of the eel, but if I'm being honest with myself I simply tried to forget all his teachings. Maybe not at the beginning, but certainly by the end. I can barely even remember what he looked like. But I do remember how angry he got when I couldn't remember the names of my grandparents or great-uncles. He was desperate to preserve his culture heritage, and I did everything I could to spite him. On his deathbed he begged me to perform the traditional last rites after his death. He even wrote the instructions down, but I was so angry at him that I tore them up in front of him. I can't even remember why. The only memories I have of him are how he made me feel. He spent almost twenty years trying to pass down our heritage - and all I have now is anger and hatred and regret.

30/09/2009

Site Director Nox gathered the staff this morning for a short mourning. After a few brief and laconic eulogies, he took me aside and told me that Venkat's replacement will come in a few weeks - and as he kept no contact with his family, it's likely his belongings will just be disposed of, and are now technically Foundation property. The director indicated that if I want to keep a thing or two from him, I should do so now.

His office was relatively unremarkable - his cushy squashed chair cushion, few office toys, and lots of marine biology books that I should probably check out someday. The only thing I took was a statue of Ganesh that stood next to the window. Not fully sure why myself, but he's now sitting on the bookshelf, next to a picture of myself, my wife, and our daughter at a lakeside terrace. It was a pretty unremarkable trip to some tourist trap in Lucknow, but this really is one of our best-looking pictures.

We're going under again tomorrow.

11/11/2009

All of the D-class managed to stay put this week, which is good. Other than the routine depression and memory loss from exposure to SCP-3000, everything was in order. Sometimes I'm a bit envious of them - all they know is that they're scooping gunk off some big eel. They don't know of its importance, or why it's critical that they collect it, and how much it helps us.

Of course, one saving grace of being on the psychological division for the Atzak Project is the awareness of its potential effects - I'm aware of what's happening to my psyche. I know that I have memories that are being drained, pieces that are being lost right now. I recall images of a young man on a bicycle, in front of a schoolyard gate, looking like it was the 80s, when I was in Singapore - he was laughing - yet I don't know if this man was a friend, a lover, a son, a family friend - who this young man is. Perhaps Italian? Or maybe Australian? Maybe this isn't even a cherished memory at all.

I looked at the Ganesh statue and the picture of my family again. It's really quite a shame, I truly forgot most anything that I've done with them. I've started trying to learn some Hindu poems and songs; went out and got a copy of the Vedas, but I can't memorize the lines properly.

I've been reflecting on what Venkat told me before he passed though - his deep, deep seated fear of mediocrity. Unable to rise out of the sea of humans that walk on the face of this earth. He's worked for the Foundation for years, and while he isn't one of the most well-known and household names of the Foundation, he's not exactly obscure - he's been the Foundation's leading marine biologist and go-to-expert for anything aquatic, and quite well-revered. I'm actually quite surprised by his jealousy - he was never the flashy and bombastic type, and I would have never guessed that he wanted fame and recognition.

Perhaps he really was afraid that he is doomed to be stuck in mediocrity.

Perhaps the silence of this place reminded him of something worse.

Addendum 3000.6 : Memorandum on Atzak Brief [LEVEL 5/3000 CLASSIFIED]

Addendum 3000.7: Personal Journal of Dr. Mannava

Note: The following is the full text of a page, penned in the hand of Dr. Mannava, which was ripped out of a journal and placed on his nightstand.

undated

I have spent a considerable amount of time on this assignment attempting to understand the underlying effects of individuals exposed to a Class VIII cognitohazard. I have conducted numerous personnel interviews, written a great many psychological reports, but I have not been able to properly deduce what about this creature would lead a perfectly sane man out the door of that airlock, and into the maw of the eel.

Earlier this week, as I was preparing my notes for another report, I accidentally knocked the picture of myself, my wife, and my daughter off of my nightstand. The glass shattered as it hit the ground, and the picture fell out. As I cleaned it up, I noticed something written on the reverse of the image. It said,

"Anand, Shanti, and Padma. June, 2002"

But the writing was not mine, it was Venkat's. I was puzzled by this. Why would Venkat have written on the back of a picture of mine? I thought little of it at the time, and cleaned up the mess and went about my day. But this question stuck with me. It was a little thing, easily explained in any number of ways, but I could not seem to shake the notion of uncertainty. It was not until last night that a horrifying thought struck me, one that I could not sleep on. I accessed the Foundation personnel archives, and realized a truth that I cannot reconcile.

Shanti was Venkat's first wife. Padma was his daughter. The records are clear. The life I remember, the experiences I am certain I have had with them, are the experiences and memories of Venkat, not me. I have never been married, and I have no children. Even now, I can see my wife in my mind, hear her laughter, smell her hair. But I know now that it is Venkat I see her through, not me.

The horror of this realization has been replaced with a queer sort of dread. I've figured out what the eel does. Something about it, some latent part of its creation, abhors cognition. It breaks down human consciousness and scatters the part of us that we believe is a soul until all that remains is what we really are: electrical signals that will some day become inert.

If even I can't remember myself, how can I expect anyone else to remember me? I have forgotten my own life - and I am strangely apathetic at this revelation. I will fade into the darkness, as thousands before me have, and thousands after me will. No one will care as I am forgotten. I do not despair for my own sake, but for us all - you and I, we will all face obliteration. I am not important. You are not important. Vast droplets of irrelevancy, stretching eons in the sea of time. We may fight against it, but our enemy is inevitability.

I do not think that the eel is Anantashesha. I don't think it would matter if it was. What is clear to me now, as I feel myself coming apart, is not that the eel is some mythological creature, or divine serpent. Perhaps it's just a primitive creature that eluded us, holding no malice; perhaps it really is a primordial deity, harboring resent beneath the surface. The eel is not the harbinger of my demise, or humanity's doom. The eel is not the end of all things, it only shows us what the end looks like.

And in spite of everything we might believe, every ideal we hold or providence we pray for, I know this much is true for all of us:

Our end will be a forgotten one.

''Note: Dr. Mannava was later discovered, unresponsive, near the aft airlock. Evidence suggested that Dr. Mannava had broken into the onboard storage locker and ingested a significant amount of raw Y-909. Dr. Mannava was moved off of the Eremita, and remains at Site-151 for analysis.''

Footnotes and References

1. Specifically within several canyons throughout the region.

2. Due to this, SCP-3000's internal biology is believed to be similarly anomalous.

3. O-9 Alpha is believed to have been addressing a former member of the command team assigned to SCP-3000, Barry Hughes, who had passed away two years prior.

4. Dr. Krishnamoorthy was married twice, and has two sons and three daughters between the two marriages.