Noting that new site member goofly399 (account age 15 days, site membership 13 days) recently coldposted the following page, which has multiple common indicators of AI-generation: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8828
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**Item #:** SCP-8828
**Object Class:** Euclid
**Special Containment Procedures:**
SCP-8828 is to be contained in a standard humanoid containment chamber reinforced with advanced surveillance equipment. The chamber is to remain under constant monitoring, and no reflective surfaces, written materials, or recording devices are to be brought into the containment area unless authorized by the Site Director. All interviews with SCP-8828 must be conducted remotely through a secured, non-interactive communication system.
Personnel are prohibited from engaging in speculative discussions about SCP-8828’s statements outside of research settings. Psychological evaluations of researchers interacting with SCP-8828 are mandatory every two weeks to assess for undue influence or paranoia. Any major events or anomalies predicted by SCP-8828 are to be logged and cross-referenced for accuracy.
Following Incident XXXX-A, SCP-8828’s sarcophagus is stored in a separate containment vault under 24/7 security surveillance. Access to the sarcophagus requires Level-4 clearance and must be authorized by the Head of Temporal Studies.
**Description:**
SCP-8828 is a humanoid entity approximately 1.85 meters in height, with an appearance that is nearly identical to an average human male. The most immediately identifiable abnormality is SCP-8828's unnaturally sharp teeth, which are arranged in a predatory configuration and remain visible even when its mouth is closed. Its eyes display a faint bioluminescence, which intensifies when it is delivering a prediction.
SCP-8828 was discovered sealed within an ornate obsidian sarcophagus during an archaeological expedition in █████████, ███████, dated ██/██/20██. The sarcophagus bore carvings of unknown origin, with symbols and script that defy all known linguistic or cultural classifications. Despite the passage of time, the carvings appear pristine, as if recently etched. Researchers have noted that prolonged observation of the carvings induces unease and, in some cases, mild auditory hallucinations resembling whispers.
Upon opening the sarcophagus, SCP-8828 awakened and began speaking in fluent modern English, despite its apparent age. The entity demonstrates high intelligence but rarely engages in direct conversation. Instead, it answers questions with detached, fragmented comments, often ignoring inquiries that do not interest it. SCP-8828's demeanor suggests partial lucidity, as if it is only marginally aware of its surroundings or perceives them in an unusual way.
While SCP-8828 is generally cooperative, it has an unsettling presence. It does not eat, sleep, or exhibit any biological needs. Its behavior is calm yet distant, and it frequently mutters cryptic phrases to itself, although these mutterings appear unrelated to its predictive abilities. SCP-8828 claims to "see the threads of tomorrow," but it does not elaborate on how it achieves its foresight.
**Addendum 1: Discovery and Initial Containment**
SCP-8828 was discovered on ██/██/20██ during an expedition into an ancient burial site in █████████, ███████. The tomb was hidden beneath layers of volcanic rock and appeared to have been deliberately sealed. The sarcophagus, constructed entirely from black obsidian and etched with incomprehensible symbols, was located in the central chamber. The carvings emitted a faint glow when exposed to torchlight, an effect not observed in natural obsidian.
Upon opening the sarcophagus, SCP-8828 sat up slowly and immediately addressed the expedition team, stating, "So the world turns again." The entity displayed no hostility, though it refused to answer questions about its identity or origin, instead remarking, "You’ve come too early, or perhaps too late. It hardly matters now." The phrase was repeated multiple times throughout its initial containment.
When moved to Site-██, SCP-8828 appeared to acclimate quickly to its surroundings. It remarked on the technology and setting with vague familiarity, stating, "Your tools have changed, but your fears remain the same." Researchers initially dismissed its comments as philosophical ramblings, but its predictions of minor, verifiable events began drawing attention.
**Addendum 2: Notable incidents**
On ██/██/20██, SCP-8828, in its containment cell, suddenly jerked its head up and started glaring at the surveillance camera, it remained in that position for about 2 minutes before it started speaking.
> The one in the green coat will stumble, and the red tide will follow.
Personnel were initially confused as to what SCP-8828 meant but later dismissed it as meaningless ramblings. However, 2 days later, an incident occurred where a researcher wearing a green lab coat accidentally triggered a containment breach of SCP-███, leading to ██ casualties and significant damage to Site-██. This piqued the interest of the researchers as the "meaningless ramblings" of SCP-8828 seemed eerily similar to what happened in that incident. Following this, researchers increased surveillance on SCP-8828 and ordered an immediate report if SCP-8828 were to make any unusual movements or to speak again.
██/██/20██, SCP-8828 was staring through the small window of its cell when it suddenly smiled. Personnel observing the entity immediately informed the higher ups and researchers rushed to the site immediately. SCP-8828 after smiling for an instant returned to its normal poker face and did not make any unusual movements for the next 46 minutes. As researchers were about to leave, SCP-8828's mouth finally opened:
> In the city of glass, the sky will burn.
Following that, SCP-8828 turned its head away and continued staring through the small window. The following day, a large-scale fire broke out in █████████, known for its high-rise glass architecture. The event caused hundreds of injuries and significant economic loss. The words matched what SCP-8828 said and SCP-8828 was finally confirmed to have certain prophetic abilities.
Researchers decided to investigate and find out more about SCP-8828's fortune telling ablilities.
> **Audio Log Transcript – Interview with SCP-8828**
>
> **Date:** ██/██/20██
> **Location:** SCP-8828's Containment Cell
> **Interviewer:** Dr. ████ █████
> **Duration:** 15 minutes
>
> **[BEGIN LOG]**
>
> SCP-8828 sits motionless in its containment cell, its gaze fixed on the far wall. The room is dimly lit, the faint glow from its bioluminescent eyes casting eerie reflections on the glass observation window. Dr. ████ █████ adjusts their recorder before speaking.
>
> **Dr. ████ █████:**
> "SCP-8828, I assume you can hear me?"
>
> SCP-8828 remains silent for several seconds before turning its head slightly, acknowledging the question.
>
> **Dr. ████ █████:**
> "I want to discuss your predictions. We’ve noticed that when you speak of future events, they often come to pass. We need to understand how you know these things and if we can use that knowledge to prevent certain... outcomes."
>
> SCP-8828 exhales softly, the first sign of engagement. Its eyes flicker faintly.
>
> **SCP-8828:**
> "Prevent? No. You do not stop the river; you only see where it flows."
>
> **Dr. ████ █████:**
> "Then at least help us prepare. Your last prophecy—the fire in the city of glass—was devastating. If we'd understood it sooner, we might have saved lives."
>
> SCP-8828 tilts its head slightly, as if considering this. When it speaks again, its tone is colder, more deliberate.
>
> **SCP-8828:**
> "Fire does not wait for comprehension. It burns, whether you understand or not."
>
> **Dr. ████ █████:**
> "...What about the next one? What do you see now?"
>
> SCP-8828 is silent. Its gaze flicks briefly toward the glass before it speaks, voice lower than before.
>
> **SCP-8828:**
> "The black tide rises. Hands reach from beneath, grasping at the shore. The pillars will crack, and the weight will fall. A name is already written."
>
> A long pause follows. Dr. ████ stiffens slightly.
>
> **Dr. ████ █████:**
> "...What name?"
>
> SCP-8828 slowly turns its head toward the glass, locking eyes with its own reflection.
>
> **SCP-8828:**
> "The one who does not know it yet."
>
> **Dr. ████ █████:**
> "That's not—"
>
> Before Dr. ████ can continue, SCP-8828's bioluminescence intensifies sharply. The recording microphone picks up a sudden, rhythmic sound—like distant, muffled knocking.
>
> **SCP-8828:**
> "They are already moving. The cracks are spreading. The foundation trembles."
>
> SCP-8828’s voice is now strained, as if something unseen presses against it. Then, suddenly, the entity’s expression changes—it almost looks... amused.
>
> **SCP-8828:**
> "Ah. And now... you hear it too."
>
> The knocking sound abruptly stops. The room falls deathly silent. The interview is cut short as security enters the chamber, responding to an urgent alarm from the observation team.
>
> **[END LOG]**
**Incident report:**
Approximately four hours after the interview, Site-██ suffered a catastrophic failure in its underground structural supports. A previously undetected water reservoir beneath the site had eroded key foundation pillars, causing a partial collapse of the lower research levels. The event resulted in multiple casualties, including the deaths of several personnel.
Security footage recovered from affected areas recorded no visible warning signs prior to the collapse. However, audio analysis detected a series of faint, rhythmic knocking sounds approximately ten minutes before the first structural failure—identical to those recorded in SCP-8828’s interview.
Further investigation revealed that one of the deceased researchers—Dr. Ezra Kline—had been scheduled for reassignment the following week. His name had been added to personnel transfer lists less than twelve hours before SCP-8828's prophecy.
**Audio Log Transcript – Post-Incident Interview with SCP-8828:**
> **Date:** ██/██/20██
> **Location:** SCP-8828 Containment Cell
> **Interviewer:** Dr. ████ █████
> **Duration:** 12 minutes
>
> **[BEGIN LOG]**
>
> SCP-8828 sits in the center of its containment cell, unmoving. Its gaze is fixed on the wall, unblinking. The glow in its eyes is dimmer than usual. Since Incident ██-██, SCP-8828 has refused to speak or respond to any form of communication.
>
> **Dr. ████ █████:**
> "SCP-8828, can you hear me?"
>
> No response.
>
> **Dr. ████ █████:**
> "You haven’t spoken since the collapse. We need to understand what happened. Did you know it was going to occur exactly when it did?"
>
> SCP-8828 remains still. The only noticeable movement is the faint rise and fall of its chest, though it has never been observed to breathe in any normal capacity. Its posture is unnaturally rigid.
>
> **Dr. ████ █████:**
> "Look, you said the name was ‘already written.’ What did that mean? Was Dr. Kline’s death unavoidable? Could we have changed it?"
>
> SCP-8828 does not react. Dr. ████ shifts slightly in their chair, exhaling sharply.
>
> **Dr. ████ █████:**
> "This isn’t helpful. You clearly have insight into future events—whether they’re set in stone or not, you know. And yet, now, you sit there like a statue. We lost people, XXXX. If there’s any chance to stop the next event, we need you to—"
>
> SCP-8828 blinks, once. Then nothing.
>
> Dr. ████ clenches his jaw, checking their notes.
>
> **Dr. ████ █████:**
> "The foundations will break, and the name will be written in stone." That’s what you said. And then, the North Wing collapsed. Dr. Kline and the others were buried under tons of rubble. Is that what you meant? Or was there something we missed?"
>
> No response. The room is silent except for the faint hum of the containment cell’s lighting. SCP-8828’s eyes flicker slightly, but it does not acknowledge the question.
>
> **Dr. ████ █████:**
> "You knew. You knew, and you gave us another damn riddle instead of a real answer. What was the point of warning us if we couldn't even use it?"
>
> SCP-8828 finally moves—just slightly. It tilts its head, slow and mechanical, as if considering the question. But it still does not speak.
>
> **Dr. ████ █████:**
> "Fine. Maybe that’s how it works. Maybe you can’t just tell us outright. But if you have even the slightest shred of humanity in you, you’ll at least confirm one thing."
>
> A pause. Dr. ████ leans forward slightly, voice low.
>
> **Dr. ████ █████:**
> "Will it happen again?"
>
> SCP-8828 remains silent. But after a long moment, its bioluminescent eyes flicker again—brighter this time, for just a fraction of a second. Then they dim once more.
>
> SCP-8828 exhales, though it has never needed to breathe. It does not respond. It does not move. But the air in the room feels heavier.
>
> Dr. ████ sits back, grimacing. They flip their notebook shut.
>
> **Dr. ████ █████:**
> "That’s all I needed to know."
>
> **[END LOG]**
**Post-Log Notes:** Dr. ████ left the containment cell immediately following the interview. SCP-8828 did not move for the next 48 hours, maintaining its rigid posture.
03:41 AM, ██/██/20██
– SCP-8828 remains still, its eyes dimmed and body unmoving for six months. The researchers believed that it had ceased to function as it once had. The anomaly had gone quiet, and there were few remaining signs of its former activity. They considered that SCP-8828 might no longer be capable of predicting future events.
Then, without warning, SCP-8828 began to convulse violently. A dense, acrid smoke pours from its ears, its body jerking unnaturally. A sudden surge of energy ripples through its form as its eyes flare green. The temperature in the room drops sharply, causing frost to form along the edges of the containment chamber.
After a moment of this violent shaking, SCP-8828 stares directly at the camera. The green glow of its eyes intensifies, and its voice cracks through the silence, deep and reverberating, layered with echoes, almost as if multiple entities are speaking at once.
SCP-8828:
> "It is as what I feared."
A silence lingers as the entity breathes heavily, its body still rigid, almost strained. For a moment, it seems to stare through the camera as if focusing on something far beyond the walls of Site-██.
> "The threads fray. The fabric tears."
> "What was once bound will scatter, unraveling like dust in the wind."
> "The weight will fall, and the fire will scorch the earth—nothing will remain untouched."
SCP-8828’s voice grows faint for a moment, then more intense, its words almost urgent.
> "The fracture has opened. What should never have been disturbed will take root."
For several moments, there is nothing but the soft crackle of static. Then, a final statement, soft, almost regretful, escapes SCP-8828’s lips as it slumps slightly in its seat.
> "It is too late to stop it. But there is still a chance to change the end."
SCP-8828’s eyes flicker briefly and then return to their dim, lifeless state. The room, now eerily still, shows no further signs of abnormal activity.
[[footnote]] While SCP-8828’s final prediction points toward an impending catastrophe, it is important to note that its previous prophecies have been highly metaphorical and difficult to fully interpret. Despite the clarity of some predictions (such as the fire in the city of glass), many of its statements have remained ambiguous, requiring further analysis of both historical and upcoming events. The reference to "the fracture" and "what should never have been disturbed" could be interpreted in several ways, including the possible release of a previously contained SCP or the onset of an unforeseen global phenomenon. The full nature of SCP-8828’s final warning is still under review by the Foundation’s top experts in temporal anomalies and dimensional phenomena. [[/footnote]]
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Excerpt of note (a single footnote):
While SCP-8828’s final prediction points toward an impending catastrophe, it is important to note that its previous prophecies have been highly metaphorical and difficult to fully interpret. Despite the clarity of some predictions (such as the fire in the city of glass), many of its statements have remained ambiguous, requiring further analysis of both historical and upcoming events. The reference to "the fracture" and "what should never have been disturbed" could be interpreted in several ways, including the possible release of a previously contained SCP or the onset of an unforeseen global phenomenon. The full nature of SCP-8828’s final warning is still under review by the Foundation’s top experts in temporal anomalies and dimensional phenomena.
Of particular note is the user's sandbox for this page: https://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/the-shardwraith which contains more common indicators of AI-generation, particularly in the edits. The changes up until revision 16 are either the addition of entire paragraphs of text or slight formatting changes; the author never makes spot-checks to correct phrasing until towards the end of their edits.
Revision 10:
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**Item #:** SCP-XXXX
**Object Class:** Euclid
**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-XXXX should be contained in a 10m x 10m x 10m special containment cell made with non-reflective black material that does not produce reflections or shine. The cell should be prepared with multiple high intensity light emitters that is capable of emmiting unfiltered light at a moments notice. All observation and research done on SCP-XXXX should be conducted remotely using non-reflective polarised camera lenses to minimize interaction risks. Any captured shards or fragments removed for study must be transported in opaque, sealed containers, and researchers must conduct experiments in labs outfitted with similar non-reflective materials.
Personnel entering the contaninment area are required to wear non-reflective suits to prevent the creature from interacting with any reflection. Under the unlikely scenario of a breach personnel are instructed to activate the Shard Containment Protocol, flooding the affected zone with high-intensity light and sealing all reflective surfaces in nearby areas.
**Description:** SCP-XXXX is a jagged, humanoid figure composed of countless floating shards of glass, each piece shimmering with distorted reflections of its surroundings. Its body shifts and rearranges constantly, with limbs elongating into razor-sharp blades or shattering into fragments that hover. Its "face" is a chaotic swirl of glass shards that sometimes align to reveal unnervingly familiar visions drawn from its victims’ memories. SCP-XXXX glides with an eerily unnatural grace and can warp and shift between mirrored and reflective surface.
SCP-XXXX's are as disturbing as its appearance, allowing it to manipulate the psychological realm. It can embedd illusions into its victims minds, warping their perception of reality. Reflections are its greatest weapon; it can conjure distorted versions of those who encounter it, turning their greatest fears or regrets into grotesque, tangible figures. Additionally, the Shardwraith feeds on the emotional trauma around it, strengthening its form the more despair and confusion it sows. Its presence alone can cause cracks in the minds of those nearby, pushing them toward madness as they struggle to discern illusion from truth.
Physically, the Shardwraith’s strength is not in brute force but in its ability to manipulate its fragmented form. While its glass shards can slice through flesh with ease, its overall physical prowess is relatively weak compared to more solid, corporeal creatures. It cannot sustain prolonged direct combat and relies instead on hit-and-run tactics, using its ability to shatter and reform to avoid physical confrontation. The creature’s limbs, though sharp, are not built for physical combat; they are more suited to creating chaos and evading attacks. Its primary strength lies in its ability to disorient, confuse, and mentally destabilize its prey rather than in overwhelming them through sheer physical power.
Interestingly, SCP-XXXX is also capable of human speech, it is able to mimic the speech of those whom it has "heard". It "talks" in an eerie manner which often involves distorted voices of its victims and those it has "heard". It has no physical mouth
**Addendum 1: Discovery**
The first recorded encounter with SCP-XXXX occurred on June 15th, 2023, at approximately 02:45 AM, in the ruins of an abandoned mansion in Greyhill County, located in the Pacific Northwest. The mansion, once owned by a reclusive inventor, had been left untouched for decades, with only a few wanderers and paranormal enthusiasts daring to enter. Local authorities reported strange disturbances in the area, with multiple disappearances linked to the mansion over the past few months. The site was subsequently flagged for investigation.
Upon arrival, a team of researchers and security personnel, led by Dr. Sylvia Hargrove, entered the mansion. As they explored the decaying structure, they discovered an antique mirror in a large, dust-covered ballroom. The mirror, unusually large and intricately framed, stood unscathed despite the surrounding damage. This was the first anomalous item discovered, though the team had not yet realized its significance.
Footage Evidence:
At approximately 03:12 AM, a motion-activated security camera, positioned in the ballroom, captured unusual activity. The footage showed the reflection in the mirror distorting unnaturally, with flickering images of figures that seemed to move independently of the room's actual occupants. Dr. Hargrove, who had been standing in front of the mirror, observed her own reflection appear distorted, as though her face was contorting in silent screams. The reflection seemed to extend towards her, but she quickly moved away from the mirror, causing the reflection to retreat back into the glass.
The true nature of SCP-XXXX was confirmed shortly after. At 03:58 AM, Dr. Hargrove attempted to remove the mirror from the premises. As she lifted it, the reflective surface shattered, and the entire room became engulfed in a violent storm of glass fragments, with sharp, floating shards darting unpredictably through the air. The entity manifested fully at this moment, emerging from the shattered pieces as a shimmering, humanoid figure, its body composed entirely of jagged glass that flickered with eerie reflections of the team.
Initial contaniment efforts failed, SCP-XXXX had used different reflective sufaces around the mansion to maifest sporadically. Security footgae along the hallway showed SCP-XXXX using different reflections to reassemble itself in different locations.
**Addendum 2: Notable incidents**
Following SCP-XXXX's escape, some notable incidents have occurred. Over the next 1 month of its escape, it wreaked havoc in the nearby city Greenhill to which it escaped. Although special containment squads were activated many times, they were either to late or unable to contain SCP-XXXX.
**Date:**June 19th 2023
**Approximated time:**9:45 PM
**Location:**Greenhill shopping plaza
**Description:**At nightfall, SCP-XXXX manifested in the city's largest shopping center. Reflections of shoppers were distorted into grotesque versions of themselves, and the entity absorbed fear and confusion as panic spread. Several mirrors shattered simultaneously, sending shards flying into nearby crowds and injuring over 15 people.
**Date:**June 19th 2023
**Approximated time:**9:45 PM
**Location:**Greenhill shopping plaza
**Description:**At nightfall, SCP-XXXX manifested in the city's largest shopping center. Reflections of shoppers were distorted into grotesque versions of themselves, and the entity absorbed fear and confusion as panic spread. Several mirrors shattered simultaneously, sending shards flying into nearby crowds and injuring over 15 people.
**Date:**June 21st, 2023
**Approximated time:**1:30 AM
**Location:**Greenhill Residential Complex
**Description:**Residents reported seeing their reflections behaving independently in bathroom mirrors, windows, and even darkened television screens. Many claimed their reflections whispered to them or moved toward the surface as though trying to escape. One individual suffered a cardiac arrest after prolonged exposure to this phenomenon. SCP-XXXX is believed to have fed on the intense fear and paranoia during this event.
**Date:** Date: June 24th, 2023
**Approximated time:** 3:50 PM
**Location:**Greenhill Central Park Fountain
**Description:**The entity appeared in the fountain's water, mesmerizing several bystanders by projecting hypnotic, shimmering visuals. Those who stared too long became entranced and reported hearing voices urging them to step into the water. Three individuals nearly drowned before first responders intervened. SCP-XXXX fled into the reflections of nearby vehicles before containment personnel arrived.
**Date:**June 28th, 2023
**Approximated time:**10:15 AM
**Location:**Glassview Towers, Greenhill
**Description:**SCP-XXXX infiltrated Glassview Towers, a luxury apartment complex known for its floor-to-ceiling windows and mirrored interiors. Residents reported hearing faint whispers from their reflections, which escalated into full conversations with distorted versions of themselves. These reflections taunted residents with deeply personal secrets, insecurities, and fabricated visions of their loved ones suffering.
Some individuals extreme psychological distress. One known individual Mr.Wesley had painted over every reflective surface in his apartment
> dont trust glass
> it knows me
**Date:**July 2nd, 2023
**Approximated time:**8:30 PM
**Location:**Greenhill Underground Metro Station
The polished metal walls and reflective train windows in the station became conduits for SCP-XXXX. It caused station lights to flicker and displayed images of missing persons in reflections, further fueling the fear of passengers. Several individuals experienced severe psychological trauma, including hallucinations of their reflections stalking them in non-reflective spaces.
**Addendum 2: Capture**
The discovery of SCP-XXXX's vulnerability to pure, concentrated light was entirely accidental, occurring during its month-long rampage through Greenhill. Following weeks of chaos, sightings of the Shardwraith were reported near Greenhill Cathedral, a historic building with a massive stained-glass window known as the "Radiance of Dawn."
On July 7th, 2023, at approximately 5:15 PM, SCP-XXXX entered the cathedral after escaping pursuit through reflective surfaces in the surrounding neighborhood. Witnesses reported its humanoid form flickering through the ornate mirrors and polished floors of the sanctuary, causing a growing sense of unease among those inside. The creature's jagged body twisted and shimmered, creating a cacophony of whispers and distorted cries that echoed throughout the space.
As the Shardwraith began to exert its influence, projecting horrific imagery and emotional distortions onto the reflections within the stained-glass panels, an unexpected phenomenon occurred. At precisely 5:45 PM, the setting sun's light passed through the "Radiance of Dawn" window, creating a beam of pure, refracted light that illuminated the sanctuary.
When the light struck the Shardwraith’s form, the entity reacted violently. Witnesses described a piercing, metallic scream reverberating through the air as its jagged body began to destabilize, the glass shards flickering and cracking under the intense light. The creature writhed, retreating toward the shadows, but the light followed as it refracted across the reflective surfaces of the cathedral, effectively trapping it.
This accidental exposure to concentrated light caused the Shardwraith to lose cohesion, with parts of its fragmented form dissolving entirely. For the first time, the entity seemed weakened and vulnerable, unable to escape or manipulate its surroundings.
Realizing the potential of this discovery, the on-site personnel quickly relayed the information to containment teams. By the following day, a task force equipped with high-intensity light projectors and reflective barriers was dispatched to the cathedral. Using concentrated beams of light, they forced the Shardwraith into a dormant state, immobilizing it long enough for a specialized containment chamber to be brought in.
**Addendum 3: Dialogue Log: Incident Report with Mr. Wesley**
Following SCP-XXXX's infiltration of Glassview Towers on June 28th, 2023, Mr. Daniel Wesley, a 34-year-old resident of the luxury apartment complex, was evacuated in a severely distressed state. Witnesses reported that he had been pounding on his apartment door from the inside, screaming incoherently, before emergency responders forced entry to retrieve him. Upon removal, Mr. Wesley was described as disheveled and panicked, with bloodied fists from attempting to shatter reflective surfaces within his apartment.
Medical evaluations revealed shallow lacerations across his arms and hands, consistent with contact with broken glass, though curiously, many of these wounds showed no signs of typical healing. His vitals were elevated, and he exhibited signs of extreme dehydration and sleep deprivation, having reportedly barricaded himself in his apartment for nearly 24 hours prior to rescue.
Neighbors reported hearing Mr. Wesley shouting at his reflections and muttering incoherently during this time. One neighbor described his screams as “filled with anguish, like he was arguing with someone who wasn’t there.”
Upon reaching the evacuation center, Mr. Wesley’s condition had worsened. He refused to approach any reflective surfaces, tearing down a polished metal sign in the hallway and insisting it was “watching him.” He spoke in fragmented sentences, frequently pausing as though listening to voices that no one else could hear.
Psychological assessments conducted by Foundation specialists determined that Mr. Wesley had suffered prolonged exposure to SCP-XXXX's manipulative effects, resulting in symptoms of acute paranoia, intrusive thoughts, and hallucinatory experiences. While physically intact, his psyche appeared fractured, with recurring delusions involving his deceased wife and a profound fear of mirrors and glass.
The following dialogue log was conducted shortly after Mr. Wesley was stabilized to gain a firsthand account of his experience.
> **Date:**June 29th, 2023
> **Time:** 11:30 AM
> **Interviewer:** Agent Colton Pryce
> **Location:** Temporary Evacuation Center, Greenhill
> **Interviewee:** Mr. Daniel Wesley, resident of Glassview Towers
>
> **[BEGIN LOG]**
>
> **Agent Pryce:** Mr. Wesley, thank you for agreeing to speak with us. Can you describe what happened at Glassview Towers?
>
> **Mr. Wesley:** [Rocking slightly in his chair, eyes darting around the room.] The glass… it’s still watching, isn’t it? Even now… I can feel it. Watching.
>
> **Agent Pryce:** [Pauses.] Mr. Wesley, there’s nothing here but us. Can you focus and tell me what you saw?
>
> **Mr. Wesley:** [Laughs softly, shaking his head.] Focus? Focus? That’s a joke. It doesn’t let you focus. It gets in your head. Makes you see things. Makes you feel things. I—I don’t even know what’s real anymore!
>
> **Agent Pryce:** What did it make you see?
>
> **Mr. Wesley:** [Eyes widen.] Lisa. My Lisa… She was there, in the glass. At first, she was smiling—like she used to, back when we were happy. But then… then it changed.
>
> **Agent Pryce:** Changed how?
>
> **Mr. Wesley:** [Voice drops to a whisper, hands trembling.] The fire. The crash. I saw her, trapped in the car, screaming my name. Over and over and over. Her face… it wasn’t hers anymore. It was broken, twisted… like a cracked mirror. She blamed me. It said I could’ve saved her. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t…
>
> **Agent Pryce:** And you believed it?
>
> **Mr. Wesley:** How could I not? It knew things. Things I’ve never told anyone. It dragged them out of me, piece by piece. My guilt, my regrets… they weren’t thoughts anymore. They were alive. They were staring back at me.
>
> **Agent Pryce:** Did you see the entity itself?
>
> **Mr. Wesley:** [Leans forward, voice growing frantic.] It was the glass! Every window, every mirror, even the damn water in my sink. It moved, it whispered. It showed me myself—no, not me. Something else. Something I don’t ever want to see again.
>
> **Agent Pryce:** What did it say to you?
>
> Mr. Wesley: [Laughs, a harsh, brittle sound.] Oh, it said plenty. It said I was a failure. That Lisa was dead because of me. That my neighbors hated me. That I was nothing but a walking regret. And you know the worst part? It felt true. Every word.
>
> **Agent Pryce:** Did you try to leave the building?
>
> **Mr. Wesley:** Leave? [Laughs again, more hysterically.] How could I leave? It was everywhere. The hallway mirrors, the elevator, the goddamn doorknobs. Every time I tried to run, it was there, waiting for me.
>
> **Agent Pryce:** How did you finally escape?
>
> Mr. Wesley: I don’t know. One moment I was in my apartment, and the next… someone was dragging me outside. But even then, I swear I saw it. In the car windows, in puddles on the street. It doesn’t stop. It never stops.
>
> **Agent Pryce:** Mr. Wesley, we’ve ensured your safety. The entity has been contained.
>
> **Mr. Wesley:** [Fixes Agent Pryce with a wild-eyed stare.] Contained? You think you can contain that? It’s in the cracks, in the shadows, in you. You can’t stop it. You can’t escape it. It’s in your reflection right now. Watching.
>
> [At this point, Mr. Wesley begins screaming and thrashing, requiring sedation by medical personnel.]
**Addendum 4: Dialogue Log: Incident Report with Mr. Leonard Kane
Following SCP-XXXX’s emergence in the Greenhill Underground Metro on June 25th, 2023, Leonard Kane, a 42-year-old maintenance worker for the metro system, was recovered in a catatonic state from the tunnels. Mr. Kane had been on duty during the incident, performing routine inspections in a service corridor when the Shardwraith began its manifestations. He was discovered several hours later by rescue teams after other maintenance workers reported hearing screams echoing through the tunnels.
Upon recovery, Mr. Kane was drenched in sweat, his uniform shredded and stained with blood from multiple shallow lacerations along his arms, neck, and face. His eyes were wide and unfocused, and he muttered incoherently under his breath, repeating the phrases, “It’s in the dark… It knows me… I can’t hide…”
> **Date:** July 2nd, 2023
> **Time:** 9:45 AM
> **Interviewer:** Dr. Evelyn Marsh
> **Location:** Foundation Medical Facility, Greenhill
> **Interviewee:** Mr. Leonard Kane, recovered survivor of Greenhill Metro incident
>
> **[BEGIN LOG]**
>
> **Dr. Marsh:** Leonard, do you know where you are?
>
> **Mr. Kane:** [Snarls, gripping his head, rocking violently.] Nowhere. Everywhere. In the cracks. In the shards. You don’t see it? It’s in the light. It’s in you.
>
> **Dr. Marsh:** [Calmly.] Leonard, it’s not in me. It’s gone now. You’re safe here.
>
> **Mr. Kane:** Safe? Safe? [Laughs hysterically, his voice rising to a shriek.] You don’t know what it’s like, do you? The glass speaks. It sings. It crawls inside your mind and turns your thoughts into razor wire!
>
> **Dr. Marsh:** What did it make you see?
>
> **Mr. Kane:** [Eyes flick around the room, wide and unblinking. His voice drops to a hoarse whisper.] My wife. My boy. [Pauses, shaking his head violently.] But it wasn’t them. It wore their faces like masks. Mocked me. They screamed for me, begged me to save them, but every time I reached out, they broke apart. Shattered like… like glass.
>
> **Dr. Marsh:** [Leaning forward slightly.] Did it speak to you?
>
> **Mr. Kane:** [Freezes, then begins to laugh softly, the sound growing louder and more manic.] Oh, it spoke, all right. Whispered things—things no one could know. Secrets I buried so deep I forgot them myself. It dragged them up, piece by piece, and cut me with them. Said I didn’t deserve to breathe, didn’t deserve to leave those tunnels.
>
> **Dr. Marsh:** How did you escape?
>
> **Mr. Kane:** Escape? [Stops laughing abruptly, glaring at Dr. Marsh with a manic intensity.] I didn’t escape. It let me go. Said I’d carry it with me, everywhere. Said I’d be its mirror. You see it, don’t you? [Leans forward suddenly, his breath ragged.] You see it in my eyes?
>
> **Dr. Marsh:** I see nothing, Leonard.
>
> **Mr. Kane:** [Begins to scream, clawing at his face.] Liar! LIAR! It’s in me! It’s IN ME! I’m cracked, broken—don’t you hear the shattering?!
>
> [Mr. Kane lunges at the table, screaming incoherently. Security intervenes, and the session is terminated.]
>
> **[END LOG]**
**Post-Log Notes:**
Following the interview, Mr. Kane required heavy sedation and was placed in a high-security isolation chamber. His condition continues to deteriorate, with frequent outbursts of violence and paranoia. Foundation personnel have recommended further psychological evaluation to determine the long-term effects of SCP-XXXX exposure.
**Addendum 5: Dialogue log with SCP-XXXX**
> **Date:** July 5th, 2023
> **Time:** 2:30 PM
> **Location:** Containment Chamber, Site-42
> **Interviewer:** Dr. Sylvia Hargrove
> **Subject:** SCP-XXXX (Shardwraith)
>
> **[BEGIN LOG]**
>
> **Dr. Hargrove:** [Calmly entering the containment chamber. SCP-XXXX is contained behind a reinforced glass wall.] Good afternoon, SCP-XXXX. We’ve been waiting for you to speak.
>
> **SCP-XXXX:** [The entity manifests within the glass, its form flickering with jagged reflections. A faint, distorted voice can be heard, echoing from the cracks in the glass.] Speak, you say? [The voice echoes, as though there are multiple entities speaking in unison.] Speak to me? Or speak to you?
>
> **Dr. Hargrove:** [Remains composed, though slightly uneasy.] Both, I suppose. You’ve been silent for some time. What do you want?
>
> **SCP-XXXX:** Want? [The form flickers more rapidly, reflections of Dr. Hargrove’s face distorting within its shape.] Want? I take. I take what is mine. You—all of you—are fragments. I am the broken pieces of your world, your minds, your selves. [The voice deepens, echoing in a more sinister tone.] I am the shattered.
>
> **Dr. Hargrove:** [Raises an eyebrow, voice steady.] Shattered?
>
> **SCP-XXXX:** [The reflection distorts, and for a moment, Dr. Hargrove sees herself in its mirrored surface. Her expression is twisted, her eyes hollow and haunted.] I see you. I see everything. Fractured. Broken. You’re all glass, aren’t you? Your lives, your thoughts—they shatter when I touch them. When you touch me.
>
> **Dr. Hargrove:** [Pauses, a flicker of discomfort passing over her face.] You’re not just reflections, are you? You’re something more.
>
> **SCP-XXXX:** [A sharp laugh, and the reflections grow clearer, almost mocking.] More? More? I am everything you hide. I am what you refuse to see. I am every piece of you that you cannot bear to face. Look at me, and you’ll see—you’ll see. [Its voice becomes a whisper.] You cannot escape what you are.
>
> **Dr. Hargrove:** [Her voice softens, her expression unreadable as she continues to study the entity.] And what is it that I’m supposed to see?
>
> **SCP-XXXX:** [The reflection shifts to show an image of a shattered mirror.] You are no different from me. You are all fractured, all split into pieces. You think you control me? [The form twists into what appears to be an image of Dr. Hargrove, her reflection a twisted, jagged version.] You think you contain me? No, you have no control. You are just another shard, waiting to break.
>
> **Dr. Hargrove:** [Taking a deep breath, trying to remain calm.] We know your weakness now. You’re not invincible. Light. Pure light destabilizes you.
>
> **SCP-XXXX:** [The reflection trembles violently, and the voice becomes a low growl.] You think that can stop me? [The flickering becomes erratic, its tone dripping with venom.] You cannot see what you’ve unleashed. You cannot hide from your own mirrors. When I come for you, I will not need light to break you.
>
> **Dr. Hargrove:** [A slight smirk on her face, but her voice remains firm.] We’ll see about that. [She stands a little taller, an air of confidence despite the entity’s words.]
>
> **SCP-XXXX:** [The entity falls silent, the reflection freezing for a brief moment before it whispers one last word.]
>
> **SCP-XXXX:** [Whispers, barely audible.] You cannot escape me.
>
> **[END LOG]**
SCP-XXXX, designated the Shardwraith, represents an unprecedented form of anomalous entity. Its ability to manipulate reflective surfaces, warp perceptions, and induce psychological breakdowns in those exposed to it makes it an incredibly dangerous threat. Its method of communicating, both through distorted reflections and mental manipulation, reveals an intelligence that is far from passive; SCP-XXXX actively seeks to exploit the fractured minds and insecurities of those it encounters. Its unpredictability and constant evolution suggest that it is not simply a physical entity but a metaphysical one, capable of existing across multiple planes of reality simultaneously.
Despite its currently contained status, the Shardwraith’s continued psychological influence on both personnel and civilians demonstrates its potential to destabilize entire communities. The ability to fracture identities and manipulate individuals through their own reflections is a power that could unravel the very fabric of societal order. Though its current containment is effective, it is clear that SCP-XXXX’s true power may lie in its continued, subtle influence, potentially spreading chaos even without direct physical manifestations.
Further research is crucial to fully understand the limits of SCP-XXXX’s abilities, its origins, and its potential weaknesses. The discovery of its vulnerability to pure light, while significant, may not be enough to completely neutralize the threat. As such, continual monitoring and enhanced containment protocols are required to prevent further breaches and ensure the safety of both personnel and the public.
[[footnoteblock]]SCP-XXXX’s ability to interact with and influence reflective surfaces appears to be a primary method of manifestation. While it can move through glass, mirrors, and other reflective materials, it is theorized that SCP-XXXX cannot create new reflective surfaces but instead manipulates existing ones.
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<< [[[SCP-XXXX]]] | SCP-XXXX | [[[SCP-XXXX]]] >>
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Excerpt of note:
Despite its currently contained status, the Shardwraith’s continued psychological influence on both personnel and civilians demonstrates its potential to destabilize entire communities. The ability to fracture identities and manipulate individuals through their own reflections is a power that could unravel the very fabric of societal order. Though its current containment is effective, it is clear that SCP-XXXX’s true power may lie in its continued, subtle influence, potentially spreading chaos even without direct physical manifestations.
Further research is crucial to fully understand the limits of SCP-XXXX’s abilities, its origins, and its potential weaknesses. The discovery of its vulnerability to pure light, while significant, may not be enough to completely neutralize the threat. As such, continual monitoring and enhanced containment protocols are required to prevent further breaches and ensure the safety of both personnel and the public.
Additionally, when a reader posted the following:
the anomaly itself is i suppose interesting conceptually, if a bit tired, but the excessive redactions just reek of series I in a not good way.
Following Incident XXXX-A,
forgot to replace numbers there.
my main issue, however, is numerous problems with clinical tone, a few examples highlighted here in bold:
[[collapsible show="- show examples" hide="- close examples"]]
While SCP-8828 is generally cooperative, it has an unsettling presence.
Its behavior is calm yet distant, and it frequently mutters cryptic phrases to itself,
The room is dimly lit, the faint glow from its bioluminescent eyes casting eerie reflections on the glass observation window.
The knocking sound abruptly stops. The room falls deathly silent.
SCP-8828 blinks, once. Then nothing.
SCP-8828 exhales, though it has never needed to breathe. It does not respond. It does not move. But the air in the room feels heavier.
[[/collapsible]]
plus the entire latter third of the page with the final prophecy. i have a sneaking suspicion that AI was used to write this.
The user responded with: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/forum/t-17030234/scp-8828#post-6805057
Thank you for your advice
The user has no other forum history. Membership revoked, PM sent.