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rating: 0+x
Item#: XXXX
Containment Class:
Secondary Class:
Disruption Class:
Risk Class:


The site of Incident Cupid.

Special Containment Procedures: Following Incident Cupid, any human, regardless of rank or title, is barred from entering the town limits of Beatitudine, Wyoming.

A 0.3 kilometre perimeter has been organized outside of Beatitudine, Wyoming which is to be monitored by a remote surveillance team at all times. This team should be vetted monthly for any signs of metal degradation and/or infatuation with Beatitudine. Any member of the surveillance team who experiences the loss of a loved one while tasked with monitoring Beatitudine is to be removed regardless of their display of the characteristics listed above. Within Beatitudine, surveillance rovers and drones are armed with infrared cameras and will aid in capture of any trespassers. Amnestics are to be provided for those who have been directly affected by SCP-XXXX.

Description: SCP-XXXX is the designation for a protective spectral entity harbored within the abandoned town of Beatitudine, Wyoming. SCP-XXXX is knowledgeable of anyone who enters into Beatitudine. It appears to take great interest in those that have recently experienced the loss of a loved one or are near expiration.

It rarely manifests physically, rather, its manifestations occur in the offerings of sentimental items to the person it has decided to oversee.

Scenario One: Visita Event SCP-XXXX anonymously consoles a person who has recently experienced the loss of a loved one. Visita Events occur in 98% of manifestations.
Scenario Two: Lascia Event SCP-XXXX believes that a person will die in the near future. It intervenes before their death in an attempt to give them a peaceful journey to the afterlife. Lascia Events occur in 2% of manifestations.

Addendum One — Discovery

SCP-XXXX was discovered after Beatitudine, Wyoming was abandoned by all of its residents. It is believed that the townsfolk concurrently decided to leave the town on November 1st, 1998. A pattern of high traffic in and out of the town every 16-20 years has been noted by highway police in the area and the most recent mass exit has fallen within this pattern.

Upon entry into the town, Foundation agents discovered a series of documents1 written on a linen based paper within homes of the former residents.2 There is mostly likely one SCP-XXXX-A instance per former resident who experienced a Visita Event.

Addendum Two

The following journal was recovered three days after the Foundation gained awareness of the anomalous activity in Beatitudine, Wyoming. The journal gives a rare insight into life in Beatitudine and the phenomena surrounding SCP-XXXX and the town. The author is believed to be James Lucian, who went missing from his parents home on September 26, 1998.

Heya Jim, kinda weird to address myself like this. You're gonna reread this when you're hopefully doing better. At least we have a log of all our antics from now until we decide to reenter the real world. If we didn't do this now we never would have.

Today I just said fuck it and left. There's no one keeping us there anyway with mom gone. The funeral was a drag. Though, I'm happy with the crowd she got, she was always the friendly type and she deserved that amount of people.

It's weird to talk about her in the past tense. The one person who was always there is just… not anymore. The fact of the matter is I just couldn't stay in that house anymore. I don't want to be the 24 year old loser straight out of college living with his parents without anything to amount to. Well, lived with his parents. It's dreary being alone in that place. Hell, It's dreary being alone. Hopefully I'll find someone to talk to or something to do.

I hopped on the first bus out of Colorado and ended up in this place. Beatut Beatitudine, Wyoming. What a weird name. It's nice though, everyone seems oddly peaceful in that quiet sorta librarian way. I've never heard a car horn or a siren go off. They have a pretty cheap motel that I've been in for two days now. I need to get some food in me soon, maybe that'll give me some energy.

I was listening to a voicemail mom left me a few weeks before she died. Asking me what I wanted for dinner, I don't remember what I told her. She was always the best cook. There's just something about another person cooking something for you that makes it 20 times better. I've never been able to replicate mom and grandma's recipes. As much as they taught me while they were still here I can't get the hang of it.

I still can't sleep. There are few trees outside my window that keep scraping against the window. It annoyed me at first but now it's kinda nice.

I think this lack of sleep is getting to me. It's about 8 am right now and I'm kinda shaken up.

The three days I've been here I could rely on this baker as a sort of clock. Everyday at 6 am on the dot we would come out of his house to walk down an alley to his nearby bakery. It was like clockwork, I'm sure he's been doing this for decades. He was always with a tray in his hand and an apron tied around his waist.

Today something changed, he got about halfway down the alley before he completely froze. It was just a dead halt, almost as if someone grabbed him or he had seen a ghost. I swear the whole time he was smiling as if a wave of euphoria had washed over him. He limply dropped his tray and turned back into the alley. I haven't seen him since.

I just walked over there and its pretty much a complete dead end. It's lined with the back doors to shops and houses. Maybe the baker went back home? But why would he just stop like that? He left his tray too. When I was investigating, this really coarse red sand caught my eye. It was as bright as the roses mom used to grow. I picked some up and it felt nice, it gave me that same feeling I used to get when a breeze would hit me on the beach. I don't know how long I spent holding it.

Time ran away from me today. Everything feels like it's running away from me. Hell, it's felt like this for the past two weeks. Hopefully I'll catch up.

There's a song by Frank Sinatra mom used to sing to me when I was younger and for the life of me I can't remember what it was.

It's amazing how fast you forget things you've looked at your entire life. There was a painting we had in the house that was in front of my bed for 18 years. Now, when I try to picture it the colors become more blurred together every passing day. Hopefully I don't forget her f

I finally got some sleep last night. I woke up and took a walk to the bakery and I just stood out there hoping to see the old baker but he ever showed up. I must've been there for a while because the man at he counter waved me in.

He introduced himself as Jackson and I reciprocated with my name. We talked about where I was from and such. He could tell that something was on my mind and asked me to divulge. I asked about the baker. Jackson is the his son and revealed that he has died yesterday.

I don't think I hid my disbelief well because Jackson questioned if I knew his father. I said no, just that I thought I saw him yesterday morning. Jackson confirmed that his father always took the same route so maybe it was just my eyes playing tricks on me. I can't help but agree with him. I thanks him for his time and game him my condolences.

Maybe that whole thing was all a dream. The past two weeks have felt this way.

Eyes have a way of playing tricks on you.

I'm going for a run now. There's a nice riverside path near the dock and the weather reminded me of the sand. As I'm walking, I'm noticing maybe 30 different families packing their things in their cars. All of them were filling their cars with suitcase after suitcase for no discernible reason. Why are they leaving this nice place?

I found this story near the dock.

The Couple
No. 6853

Tears pooled under Peter's eyes as he tightened the midnight black tie around his white collared shirt. The mirror seemingly mocked him as he tried to cover up the lack of sleep with her makeup. He attempted do his hair the way she liked it but he couldn't get it right. His brown curls kept springing out of place. He relented without much care.

"She'd hate this suit." he mumbled, in the seven years he knew her, she always said that blue was "his color." Peter clutched the glistening necklace tight in his hand, felt his pocket for the box, and left his apartment. His mother was waiting for him in a car.

"Hi sweetie." His mother softly said.

"Hey ma," He responded. She turned and looked at him with a motherly gaze, Peter didn't meet her eyes. "Come on, let's go." He meekly commanded.

Peter marched into the church with the little strength as he could muster. The funeral director paced towards him and grasped his hand.

"Hello again Pete"

"Nice seeing you Rob, sorry about being late."

"No, you're just on time, Follow me"

Rob explained the flower selection while Peter shuffled behind him. Peter hoped to drag out this "tour" out for as long as possible, yet, they continued to the wooden casket. He hadn't seen her body yet but his legs refused to halt as they crept closer.

Rob stepped behind Peter who almost pleaded for him not to. Her golden hair was tied in a scarf behind her head. Her vibrant blue eyes were shut behind her eyelids and he'll never be able to see them again. A fluttering white and blue dress was draped on her figure ending at her knees. White stockings ran up her legs with white flat shoes on each foot. He admired what she once was before noticing the barely visible bruising around her naked neck. Tears silently streamed down his face. He removed the necklace from his clenched fist and placed it on her.

He felt the coldness of her neck and began to weep. Peter grabbed her icy hand and kissed it.

"Hey, Ellie… Do you want to do something this weekend?"


"Uh.. yeah, maybe a movie or we could go to a park somewhere—"

"Yes! How about you be at my place at 7:30 on Saturday?"

"Okay, sounds good. I'll call you."

"I can't wait!"

They were both sophomores in together in high school. He had never gone on a date or even asked out a girl before, he was terrified. Peter opted for dinner and a walk his date, that's what his friend recommended. Every move he made he tried to do with precision as to not "mess up." Peter was overreacting and Ellie clicked with him instantly; their conversation flowed like a stream. They spent enough time in the restaurant just conversing and giggling that they had to be kicked out by a manager, which only made them laugh harder.

Peter and Ellie drove to the nearby Topher's Dock and strolled along the trail lining the river. Ellie spoke with such enthusiasm that Peter couldn't help but feel excited for whatever her racing mind wandered to. The size of the moon caught her eye that night and she couldn't help but stare. Peter noticed her amazement and took a seat in the grass. Ellie followed after him.

The moonlight glistened off the rippling river and provided enough illumination for Peter to admire the woman next to him. Her long, golden hair was tied in a tight ponytail and her stormy blue eyes glowed like lanterns in the moonlight.

"It's really nice tonight." She softly said as a slight wind pushed against her face. Peter broke his gaze and looked to the stars. He absentmindedly moved his left hand in the grass and plucked at the blades and clovers. He looked to his hand and found a clover with four leaves and chuckled.

"What happened?" Ellie questioned enthusiastically.

"I found this." Peter stated with a grin as he handed her the plant. She giggled while blushing and placed it in her hair. Peter joined her laughter. Ellie took hold of Peter's arm, surprising him, and placed in around her neck. She leaned her head on his chest and stared at the night sky. As they looked into the night sky they did not ponder what was up there; the moon was no longer on Ellie's mind. They only thought of one thing, their love.

Peter had abandoned the box on his nightstand and refused to open it. He was going to put it in her casket but thought against it, she would rather he kept it. It had been two weeks since her death, work and school continued as normal. He fell into the same schedule he had before she died as if nothing had happened, and he despised himself for that.

Peter drifted into his room only to notice the ornate box lying on his bed. He gasped upon viewing it. Peter didn't remember placing it there. His heart and mind raced questioning who put the box there. He hesitated to pick it up. Fear, anger, and anguished filled his soul and he dragged his hand forward. Tears silently ran down his face as he gasped it. He crumbled to the floor and sobbed.

"Why did I wait? Why didn't I ask you?" He questioned through his cries. He moved the box to his heart. "I'm so sorry… I love you so much."

For the first time in five months he tug open the box to view the diamond ring. Within the case was a small, stormy blue envelope. Peter was stunned upon seeing it. His heart raced quicker as he grabbed the envelope.

He gently ripped open the seal and pulled out the contents, a Polaroid photograph of two people admiring the night sky and a four leaf clover.

At least I'm not the only one having trouble dealing with life. I'm going to keep this with me. It's nice to think someone had somewhat of a happy ending, even if they're fictional. Hopefully I will have mine some day.

I'm walking back to the motel and more people are packing their stuff up. It seems so hasty. Why are they leaving?

I talked to a 'neighbor' of mine right near the motel. They wouldn't respond when I asked why they were leaving. Why would anyone want to leave me here?

Why has the bakery been closed all day?

Why are no one's lights on?

Why are they leaving me?

Why does this fate follow me? Why did I find this story? Why did that old man die? Maybe I'm meant to be alone. It looks like everyone is leaving this place just as I got situated here. I was almost there. I though this place would give me something, some meaning.

Why is this place leaving me? I got away from the monotony and it followed me. My father left. My mother left. And now this tiny inkling of hope, this small rock I could try to tie myself to is leaving.

If it's leaving me I'm going with it.

I almost did it. It felt like something grabbed me though. I don't feel the emptiness anymore. emptiness.

I found a cassette tape buried under my clothes. The song mom used to sing is 'More.'
I noticed a light a few minutes ago. I don't know if it's a light actually. it's more of a sparkle that I keep finding it in my peripheral vision. It's nice knowing it's there, it gives a me bit of relief. I think it's pointing to the bathroom door. There's a little dusting of that red sand outside of there, I must have spilled some in front of it.

I keep hearing these lyrics: "My heart is very sure, no one else could love you more." It was pretty faint a few minutes ago. I'm in front of the door and it's loud now. I think it's her, in there.

I'll be back soon.

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