SCP-3000 Anantashesha | Thaumiel class | Aquatic / Cognitohazard / biological /animal scp


SCP-3000 “Anantashesha” Object Class: Thaumiel Level 5/3000 classified Item #: SCP-3000 Object Class: Thaumiel 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 0.7 km 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: …the unease was felt throughout the entire
crew as we descended on that first night. Whether this was due to our uncertainty at
what we would discover, or something more sinister, I would not speculate. As we continued to descend, Williams began
sweating profusely. When asked about it, he could not respond,
stating that he thought he was missing something he could not deduce. As our descent continued, he began to act
more and more erratically, at one point addressing myself as “Darlene” and expressing uncertainty
as to the tasks he was assigned to handle. Similar feelings were expressed by other members
of the crew, but Williams felt it the most. His memetic resistance was by far the lowest
of all of us, but he was a biologist, not a memeticist. When we finally came into contact with the
entity, he began whimpering and had to be sedated. I remember him muttering the word “no” over
and over again, as if in disbelief. He went silent after a while as we approached
its head, and when I looked back at him something had gone from his eyes. He did not even so much as blink as we made
our final descent. At around 0940 hours, we first observed the
head of the entity. The unease was palpable now; several other
crew members complained of feeling “hazy” and of being uncertain what they were supposed
to be doing. Captain Ritter, ever the man’s man, wrote
it all off as nitrogen intoxication and forced them to continue approaching the entity. When we were within fifty meters, the entity
turned slowly to look at us. Even now, as I recall watching this thing
coil around in the darkness, I can still hear Williams, barking like a mad dog in the rear
of the vessel. Screaming and flailing, shouting about how
he could see it in his head. Perkins and Harrison tried to restrain him,
but he got free and smashed his face in against one of the portholes. He hit it so hard he cracked the inner layer
of glass. The damage was bad enough that we had to surface. We tried to give Williams medical attention,
but he was too far gone at that point. He had pulped himself against the glass, and
despite the trauma he still spoke briefly as he lay dying. Nobody recorded it, we didn’t think to at
the time. But I remember it well enough. He said, “there’s nothing, nothing, nothing.” By the time we had reached the surface several
hours later, Williams was dead. At the time, I didn’t think much about what
he had said. Just the ravings of a man gone mad by the
depths, I figured. I didn’t know any better. But even now, I can still see the eyes of
the creature. I see it hanging there in the darkness, illuminated
by a light I cannot source. And I feel the lingering dread that Williams
must have felt that night in the submersible, as he was overcome by whatever void that foul
thing slithered out of. 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. [BEGIN LOG] Alpha: Alright command. We’re situated in the airlock, and ready
to roll. Command: Confirmed. Go ahead and sound off. Alpha: Orion-9 Alpha, check. Bravo: Orion-9 Bravo, check. Command: Alright, men – we’re in position
about 500m from the head of this creature. Make sure your tethers are on good and tight,
we don’t want any of you getting separated out there. Bravo: What’s visibility like down here
today, command? Command: Standby. Command: About three meters. Foxtrot: So it’s dark as fuck. Got it. Bravo: Why are we so far out? Command: The size of this thing is hard to
comprehend, and it’s wrapped up in itself in several places. We can’t get too close because there’s
too much body there. The entity hasn’t moved in about three weeks. Foxtrot: At all? Command: Affirmative. It moves slightly with the currents down here,
but nothing more than that. If it weren’t for the head movement that
was observed by the first submersible team, we probably wouldn’t know if it was alive
or not. Foxtrot: That’s reassuring. Alpha: Alright, tethers are tight. Flood the chamber. Command: Confirmed. Rushing water is heard as the airlock chamber
floods. No other sound is heard for several minutes. After some time, the sound of rushing water
stops. Alpha: You both good? Bravo: I’m good. Foxtrot: It’s fucking cold. Alpha: Hopefully we won’t be out for long
then. Turn on your lights boys, Here we go. All members of the dive team exit the airlock. There is a low mechanical sound as the airlock
door closes behind them. A muffled click sound is heard, and the Stravinsky
activates its aft floodlights. Foxtrot: Hey Alpha, I uh— maybe this is
a bad time to ask, but I can’t remember how to turn on my lamp, and- Alpha: Your lamp is on, Foxtrot. Foxtrot: It— what? (Pauses) What did you call me? Alpha: Your designation, Mulhaney. Foxtrot. Bravo: I’m Foxtrot, boss. Alpha: Hang on, what are you talking about? Foxtrot: I don’t understand what you mean
by “designation”. Alpha: It’s your goddamn call sign, Bravo,
what do you mean— Bravo: Who’s Bravo? Alpha: I— uh, shit, hang on. I was going to say something. Barry3, are you still there? Command: Standby. (Pause) Go for command. Alpha: Hey, we’re having a little trouble
out here, I’m not sure who… we seems to have some confusion over designations, and
I’m not sure where we’re going. Foxtrot: Where exactly are we? Bravo: God, do you— do you guys feel that? I’ve just got an awful headache, it’s
like needling in my brain, something… Command: Dive team, be advised that we believe
you may be experiencing some detrimental cognitive effects. Keep moving forward, and we’ll give your
more information as we receive it. Alpha: Noted. Command, be advised that Foxtrot has a…
uh… terrible headache. I think… are we going in the right direction? We can’t see out here. Command: You are roughly 150m from the head
of the entity, Alpha. You should be getting a visual soon. Bravo: Command, I don’t see anything, where
are we? Alpha: Where are we? Command: We’re almost there, Alpha – dive
team, be advised, we’re picking up movement from the entity on radar. Alpha: I— Barry, I don’t see anything
down here, what are we supposed to be looking- Foxtrot: All… all I can see is darkness. There’s a chill foul wind blowing, pushing
me towards a brink I can’t see- Alpha: Shut up, shut up, shut up – Command,
Bravo is unresponsive, requesting immediate cessation of mission- Bravo: Wait a second- Foxtrot: —on the edge of the nothingness,
inches from oblivion. There’s a… there’s a sickness in my mind
that I know can’t be cured. Beyond me is only blackness, and a single
pair of dark eyes- Alpha: What? What are you saying? Command: Dive team, we’re going to pull
you back in immediately, we have reason to believe that— Alpha: Barry? Is that you? How can it be? I shoveled the dirt during your— Bravo: I can hear something over there, Alpha,
your light, get your fucking— Foxtrot: —silence, only silence, my consciousness
coming undone and only and only and only- Command: Dive team, something is moving toward
you, repeat, something is moving toward you, prepare to return to- Alpha: Ah, this is shit. I can’t see. How far are we from the- Bravo: It’s right there! It’s right there! Fuck! What are you both doing? Fuck! Foxtrot: —and only the eel remains. Radio silence for twenty seconds. Command: Alpha? Radio silence for thirteen seconds. Command: Alpha? Bravo? Foxtrot? Do any of you hear us? Bravo: (Unintelligible) Command: Oh, thank God – Bravo, you need to
speak up, we can’t— Bravo: Shhhhhhhh. Radio silence for ten seconds. Command: Something has bound up the winch
between you and us, we can’t— Alpha: It’s opening its mouth. Bravo: It’s so dark, there’s— ah- Foxtrot: Where am I? What— Alpha: Barry? How can it be? I shoveled dirt- Bravo: Mulhaney… swim, get away, there’s
only darkness, swim— Foxtrot: Only- There is suddenly tension in the tether attached
to the Stravinsky. O-9 Foxtrot’s radio goes silent. There is the sound of a struggle through the
other two radios. Command: Foxtrot? Foxtrot? Alpha? Bravo? Talk to me, stay calm, what happened? Bravo: It ate him, fuck, he’s gone, it took
him whole, he— goddammit, Alpha, what are you doing? Alpha: Alpha? Bravo: Cut the fucking goddamn tether Alpha,
it’s pulling us in! Alpha: Who? Bravo: Fuck! Alpha: (Silence) Ah— Total radio silence for 30 seconds. Tether attached to Stravinsky is pulled free
from its moorings and disappears. Command: Alpha, Bravo, do you copy? Radio silence for five seconds. Command: Alpha, Bravo, do you copy? Bravo: This is Bravo, I’m… I’m floating in the dark. I can see shapes moving through the fog, but
they’re hard to make out. I cut my tether, Alpha wouldn’t— I think
he’s gone. I don’t see his light anymore. Command: Acknowledged. We’re coming to- Bravo: Hang on, just let me think for a second…
cognition, this thing, it doesn’t work around it. Your brain can’t form thought, (static)
it hurts, it’s like dying, and— Command: Bravo, do you have eyes on the entity? Bravo: It’s in my head, guys. Coiled up in there like a snake, and something
about it is… caustic. (Pauses) I can see it, just in front of me. It’s not doing anything, it’s… it isn’t
moving. Just hanging there, with its mouth open. I think it’s finished eating. (Pauses) That fluid is seeping through the
skin around its head, about a meter back. Just looking at the stuff is making me…
like the room is spinning. I feel nauseous. My head isn’t working right. (Laughter) There’s an abortion under the floorboards,
and another in the si— wait, this is wrong, that wasn’t me. Who said that? Bravo: My… I’m going to collect a sample, hang on. Command: Bravo, we’re going to send out
a crew to get you, just hold on. Bravo: Oh no, don’t do that. Not… you have to be trained to not feel
the things I’m feeling, otherwise it will get into you. Maybe it will anyway, who knows. It feels like the end of the world down here,
fellas. My heart is really going off the charts, and
I think I’m dying. Just— (Pauses) I got a sample. I’ll attach it to one of those little balloons
and let it float up. You’ll be able to get it later. Don’t spend too much time around that stuff,
it… it doesn’t… your mind… it… (Quick, heavy breathing) Command: Bravo? Bravo: I think I’m dying. I’m dying, I know I’m dying, this is it. I just want to get away from here. You know, it occurs to me… (laughs quietly)
don’t send anyone else out here. It’s so dark. Command: Bravo? 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 warning2.png
This protocol dictates certain interactions with a CLASS VIII COGNITOHAZARDOUS ENTITY,
SCP-3000, and as such is LEVEL 5/3000 CLASSIFIED. Preface: The following protocol was developed
in conjunction with researchers from Site-29 and Site-50, as well as researchers stationed
at Site-151. Some sections may have been redacted to remove
material above this classification. Adherence to this protocol is required for
all personnel assigned to Site-151, as well as all personnel assigned to the SCPF Eremita. Abstract: The 151-HOLLISTER ATZAK PROTOCOL
has been developed and implemented to create a strategy for the management of the Y-909
chemical compound excreted by SCP-3000. Protocol Information: The Y-909 compound,
originally discovered by the late Dr. Adam Hollister, is a critical component in several
modern and experimental amnestic compounds. Specifically, the following amnestics now
contain a refined version of the Y-909 compound: Class-A (2016 variant)
Class-D (2016 variant) Class-E (2016 variant)
Class-X (2017 variant) Class-XX (2017 variant)
[REDACTED] [REDACTED]
Atzak-Class Experimental Compound Foster-Class Experimental Compound
Ellipse-Class Experimental Compound The inclusion of the Y-909 compound has shown
a marked increase in the stability and long-term effectiveness of the aforementioned amnestics. Overall, amnestics utilizing Y-909 break down
78% slower than their standard counterparts in cold storage, and 52% slower than their
standard counterparts at room temperature. Additionally, individuals administered an
amnestic regimen utilizing Y-909 show a marked increase in suggestibility, memory clearance,
and a significant decrease in additional side-effects (such as nausea, vomiting, bowel distress,
blurred vision, headaches, insomnia, heart damage, and others). Individuals treated with these amnestics expressed
significantly fewer intrusive memories as those without Y-909, with some individuals
exposed to experimental compounds expressing no intrusive memories whatsoever, even at
the 5 and 10 year marks. Due to the effectiveness of these treatments
with the addition of Y-909, the continued inclusion of this compound is essential to
modern Foundation amnestic application. Reliance on the continued use of Y-909 necessitates
its collection for the foreseeable future, as a synthetic version of the compound has
not yet been discovered. As such, this protocol dictates the way this
compound is collected off of SCP-3000, and the way personnel are to interact with SCP-3000. Below is a brief framework of the procedure,
and detailed information can be found in the full Atzak brief: Members of MTF Epsilon-20 “Night Fishermen”
are to prepare a subject for deliverance to the feeding site. One individual D-Class subject is to be administered
a sedative, and equipped with a high-pressure diving suit. The subject is then to be tethered to an underwater
ROV within the aft airlock. The airlock is to be flooded, and the subject
is to be towed by the ROV towards the feeding site. Upon reaching the feeding site, the ROV is
to disconnect its tether, and return to the Eremita. Throughout this stage, SCPF Eremita should
monitor SCP-3000’s position, and adjust course if the entity begins to move away from the
feeding site. Mission command will provide additional instructions
during this phase if necessary. Personnel on-board the SCPF Eremita are to
monitor SCP-3000 during feeding sessions. During this time, no personnel are permitted
to leave the Eremita without authorization from mission command. At a point after the total consumption of
prey, SCP-3000 will begin to excrete Y-909 near the foremost section of its body. Specialized teams of deep-sea divers are to
exit the SCPF Eremita through the aft airlock and approach SCP-3000. Collection of Y-909 must take place during
SCP-3000’s “digestive” period, which is currently believed to be roughly two and a half hours
after consumption of prey. Teams must return to launch craft before the
end of this period. During this period, the typical effects of
SCP-3000 are less severe, though Command should continue to monitor these teams for damage
to their cognition. After collection of Y-909 is complete, personnel
are to transfer the collected substance to secure containers before returning to the
surface. The mission administrator onboard the Eremita
is to monitor the substance throughout transport. Addendum 3000.3: Psychological Evaluation 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. [BEGIN LOG] Mannava: Hi Venkat, how are you feeling? Krishnamoorthy: Unwell. Mannava: That’s what I hear. Do you want to talk about what happened today? Krishnamoorthy is silent. Mannava: We don’t have to, if you don’t want
to. We can talk about something else. Krishnamoorthy: I’m tired, Anand. Mannava: I understand. This assignment has been stressful on all
of— Krishnamoorthy: It’s not, no, it isn’t the
stress. I’ve done this before, I’ve been on… I don’t actually know if I’ve done this before. Mannava: You have. Krishnamoorthy: I don’t remember it. Any of it. I’ve been getting these out of context feelings,
like my body reacting to reflexes it didn’t know it had. Everything is so disconnected, and trying
to keep it together is… I’m just tired. Mannava: When did you start feeling this way? Krishnamoorthy: How long have we been down
here? I don’t remember. I don’t know when, I honestly don’t. I wish I could tell you more than that, but
I have nothing. I look to that place in my mind and there’s
something else there— or sometimes nothing at all. Mannava: What do you mean, something else? Krishnamoorthy: I’ve been having other peoples’
dreams, Anand. I see faces I don’t recognize, places I know
I’ve never been… or maybe I have. I don’t know. How can I know what is real or not, when I
can’t trust my own mind? Mannava: Well, maybe I can help you with that,
Venkat. We can go over things you think you’ve forgotten,
and I can— Krishnamoorthy: Don’t patronize me. I know you’ve felt it, Anand. Your mind gets hazy. Parts of you start to slip, your memories
grow faint, fading in and out until they’re gone, or worse, replaced. You see pasts that aren’t yours, experiences
that you never lived. You start to become other people, or… nobody
at all. Mannava: Venkat, please. I’m just trying to help. Krishnamoorthy: Do you even know my work before
we met? Come to think of it, I don’t even remember
how we met. I know your name, know that you’re a psychologist,
but are we friends? Are we brothers? I don’t know how I know you. We work together, I know that. I still have that. But other things, they come and go. I don’t know if I am married, or have children4. Mannava: I see. Krishnamoorthy: And that… that isn’t the
worst of it. I know this is happening to me, I know that
my mind is coming apart. But there’s something else in there, too. Something rising out of the… out of the
smoke of my smoldering consciousness. That eel. Mannava: The eel? Krishnamoorthy: I don’t… I don’t remember my mother. I can hear her voice, but I can’t remember
her face. I can’t remember how she smelled, or how she…
but what I do remember is she told me about gods. (Pauses) There is a god, called Anantashesha. A serpent, the king of serpents. Said to lie beneath Vishnu in the cosmos. A six headed snake god, isn’t that something? Mannava: It… yes, I am familiar. Krishnamoorthy: Ah… of course, I’m sorry. I forgot. (Pauses) She… I don’t remember much, but I do remember that
she told me about how Anantashesha would… would linger past the end. Gaze upon the darkness past the end of time. She said that, when the light of the universe
had gone out, all that would be left is Anantashesha. (Pauses) I have worked my entire life for
the Foundation, so much as I can recall. I have struggled to build my name and my reputation
and done everything I can do to leave… something, anything. Some kind of mark that says I was here. But… Mannava: What is it? Krishnamoorthy: I… I believe that SCP-3000 is Anantashesha. I believe that this… this aberration, this
treachery against cognition, is the result of us being in the presence of a god. Not just a god, but a god who exists across
all time, all at once, and… even beyond. Maybe… maybe the some part of the nothingness
beyond the edge of time is part of Anantashesha, as well. Maybe it acts as, as a conduit, some kind
of— Mannava: Venkat, please, we’re scientists— Krishnamoorthy: No, let me finish. In defiance of the nothingness that comes
after this, all of this, there is Anantashesha. There’s a chance that my memories might live
on, that I might be remembered like the memories I’ve seen have been through me. I don’t… I don’t have proof of this. But when I looked into its eyes and saw what
it showed me, I was afraid. I’m merely a mediocre man, Anand. This was a fear that I have refused to acknowledge
for years, a fear of irrelevance, that no one will know who I am when I die. Afraid of being forgotten. Afraid of my life being meaningless. Afraid of being alone. Afraid of dying. (Sighs) There is a terror within me that I
cannot reconcile, Anand. I won’t lie to you and tell you that the maw
of the naga does not terrify me as well, but between this and the infinite dark I have
gazed into, I have made up my mind. [END LOG] Addendum 3000.4: Incident Video and Audio
Log After two days of containment within a secure
holding cell onboard the Eremita, orders were received to lift the hold order on Dr. Krishnamoorthy,
in accordance to the terms of the Atzak Protocol. Three hours after Dr. Krishnamoorthy was released
from his holding cell, the following incident took place: [BEGIN LOG]Krishnamoorthy stands near the
entrance to the Eremita’s aft airlock. Subject is facing away from nearest camera.Proximity alarm is triggered. Exterior floodlights activate. SCP-3000 is still not visible. Command is alerted, and Eremita’s engines
engage, preparing for evasive maneuvers.Krishnamoorthy is startled by proximity
alarm, and begins to appear panicked. Subject continues to look at entrance to the
aft airlock. Subject turns briefly towards nearest camera,
and is observed to be weeping.Krishnamoorthy slowly approaches
aft airlock and opens airlock door. Subject enters airlock, and primary access
door seals behind the subject.Interior airlock camera captures
Krishnamoorthy staring at exterior airlock door for a full two minutes, unmoving. After two minutes, subject collapses on the
ground.All cameras shudder as primary
turbines spin up. SCP-3000 is visible on radar, approaching
SCPF Eremita. SCP-3000 is not visible on exterior cameras.Krishnamoorthy stands and approaches
diving suit locker. Subject puts on a high-pressure deep sea diving
suit, and then moves towards exterior door controls. Subject engages exterior door latch. Interior airlock camera is obscured by rushing
water.Secondary alarm is triggered by
airlock breach. Personnel on the bridge attempt to close airlock,
but Krishnamoorthy has already exited the airlock.Krishnamoorthy hangs in the water
behind the aft section of the Eremita, illuminated by exterior floodlights. Subject is motionless.SCP-3000 slowly appears from out
of the darkness. Krishnamoorthy remains motionless.Exterior cameras shudder as Eremita
begins to reverse towards Krishnamoorthy. Rescue teams have assembled in the airlock
chamber.SCP-3000 approaches Krishnamoorthy. Its mouth begins to open. Eremita sounds horns, but neither SCP-3000
or subject appear to notice.SCP-3000 moves to just above Krishnamoorthy. Subject appears to look up into the now fully
expanded jaw of SCP-3000. Eremita begins to flash external floodlights. Airlock opens. Krishnamoorthy: Anand… I was wrong. (Sobs) God save me, it’s not—SCP-3000 strikes and quickly consumes
Krishnamoorthy.SCP-3000 disappears into the darkness,
and is no longer visible on exterior cameras. Rescue crews are recalled. Crew begins to initiate Atzak Protocol. [END 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 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 is
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] Some new assignments had questions about our
work here, so I’m publishing this to clear most of them up. Feel free to contact my office if there are
any others. The Atzak Protocol is a method for gathering
and processing the Y-909 compound. It’s a thick, brackish, grey fluid that SCP-3000
excretes as part of its metabolism. We don’t know the exact method by which it
does this, but we have some ideas, and none of them are great for us. Initially, we thought it was bleeding. The first team we sent down to look at SCP-3000
went down to collect blood samples for analysis. When SCP-3000 attacked and consumed them,
and began producing more of the substance, we realized that we were looking at something
different entirely. It’s definitely not blood, it’s more akin
to a prion slurry. It’s extremely toxic, and spending too much
time around the stuff causes a lot of the same effects as exposure to SCP-3000 does. Paranoia, memory loss, suicidal thoughts,
etc. Refining the raw Y-909, what the processors
call “eel jelly”, allows us to create amnestics more effective than any we’ve ever had access
to in the history of this organization. Herein lies the ethical dilemma. SCP-3000 only creates Y-909 after eating,
and it only eats humans. Remember when I said we had some ideas about
how it does this? Some of our biologists have hypothesized that
SCP-3000 is breaking down whatever makes sapient creatures sapient, filtering it through some
part of its skin, and the residual ether is what we collect. You want to know something really fucked up? We’ve taken radiographs of this thing, trying
to see what’s going on inside of it. It’s full of dead human bodies. It’s not digesting them at all, it’s doing
something else, and the end result is Y-909. When we first started using Y-909 in our amnestics
programs, we tried to synthesize it. We got something close to what we were looking
for, Y-919, but the side effects were catastrophic. The amnestics would work, we could get people
to forget events, people, and so on. But then they would start to forget other
things, too. The mental deterioration would rapidly increase
until there was nothing left, and then they would die. A few of those researchers thought we might
be able to figure out how to decrease the severity of those side effects, but the cost
to continue those trials would have been astronomical, and the program was discontinued. It’s no secret that what we’re doing here
is abhorrent. The Ethics Committee, the Classification Committee,
they’re all looking at ways to make this more tolerable than what it is. But the hard truth is, if we want to continue
to use modern amnestics, we have to have Y-909. If we want to have Y-909, we have to feed
D-Class to SCP-3000. Otherwise, we’d be forced to go back to the
metaphorical dark ages, where we were amnesticizing people with opiates and chloroform. The good news is, we’re developing ROVs that
should be able to take over the job of collecting the raw material from our dive teams. This will eliminate any chance of accidental
casualties like we’ve had in the past, and is a good first step. For everything else, only time will tell. -Nox 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.

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