Connor's Draft No.26


Item #: SCP-4622

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-4622 is to remain untouched via an area of exclusion, 2km in diameter, surrounding the vicinity. Foundation metaphysicians are to research methods of examining and identifying SCP-4622-1's biology without triggering its cognitohazardous properties.

Beyond the assigned research and containment staff chosen, no other personnel are to enter this area of exclusion. Any individuals or personnel that do are to be detained and brought in for questioning. Detained individuals are to undergo therapeutic treatment and amnesticized from ever encountering SCP-4622-1.

Description: SCP-4622 is an unmarked and open grave in front of a tree near the peak of a hill located in the Chugach Mountains of Alaska. A tombstone is affixed to the grave but bears no name or identity of the figure lying within.

The figure, hereafter referred to as SCP-4622-1, is a corpse in an advanced state of decomposition that is heavily distorted and warped beyond human perception. Further observation of SCP-4622-1 has been known to cause mild eyestrain, headaches, and nosebleeds in the observing individual. SCP-4622-1 carries a cognitohazardous effect; observers will perceive the figure in the grave as themselves and will attempt to fill the it with soil from SCP-4622-2.

SCP-4622-2 is a mound of soil with a shovel affixed to it, located to the right, beside the grave. SCP-4622-2 instantly replenishes any of its mass lost when not observed. Likewise, any soil used to fill the hole of SCP-4622-1 will be impossible as no matter how much soil has been shoveled into the grave, SCP-4622 will always remain unchanged.

Addendum 4685.1: Audio Log Transcript


To die, to sleep-
No more- and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to-’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished! To die, to sleep.
To sleep, perchance to dream-ay, there’s the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
must give us pause. There’s the respect that makes calamity of so long life.

William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act III, Scene I

And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, "This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me."

Luke 22:19, NIV


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