SCP-4377
rating: +42+x

Item #: SCP-4377

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-4377 is currently uncontained. Multiple Foundation personnel are permanently engaged in direct combat nearby, and are currently attempting to direct it into uninhabited areas of woodland. A unit of MTF Upsilon-Peorð ("Slings and Arrows")1 has been instructed to maintain a safe distance, divert civilians away from the entity, and attempt to block it from public view by means of WPSEP2 generators and conventional camouflage.

Research into a method of overcoming SCP-4377's compulsive effects is ongoing. Under no circumstances are any persons to come within 60 metres of the entity.

recyclocide.jpg

The original site of SCP-4377.

Description: SCP-4377 is an immense entity composed of forty-eight individual humans, bound together with adhesive solvents, paper, and large amounts of wood pulp. SCP-4377 is roughly humanoid in shape, and wears a crude 'crown' constructed from the rotating drum of a paper press. It displays both autonomy and low-level sentience, ambulates constantly at an average speed of 0.15 kph, and does not respond significantly to external stimuli beyond a range of 55 metres. Despite remaining fully conscious (and seemingly invulnerable), the constituent persons (designated PoI-4377-1 through -48) do not appear to possess any degree of control over the entity's actions.

SCP-4377 formed on 2001-06-12, in the Hemel Hempstead Recycling Plant, Hertfordshire, England, which specialised in the reprocessing of paper prior to a Foundation-initiated shutdown. It is believed that of the people composing SCP-4377, the vast majority are the plant's former employees. All PoI-4377 instances have vocalised near-continuously since the anomaly's formation.

Once per week, PoI-4377 will slowly expel crude replica weapons from their mouths (passing them outwards manually in the case of instances fully embedded within SCP-4377) and allow them to fall to the ground. These weapons are universally composed of paper, cardboard, glue, papier mache, and adhesive tape, and have designs ranging from crude cut-outs to intricate models, apparently selected randomly. All weapons produced so far have been representative of those found in Britain during the medieval period. See Addendum.

During this expulsion period, which ordinarily lasts between one and three hours, any persons within 55 metres of the entity will be assigned to one of two groups, based upon a criterion that alters after each selection period. Criteria observed so far include:

  • Hair colour.
  • Preference for either Coca-Cola- or Pepsi-brand drinks.
  • Attitude towards pineapple as a pizza topping.
  • Support for, or rejection of, the Oxford Comma.
  • Feelings towards the planetary status of Pluto.

Each criterion is selected so as to provide approximately equal numbers of people in each group. Individuals assigned to one group are inflicted with an unnatural hatred towards the other, as well as displaying increased empathy and friendship towards fellow group members and a complete inability to a) use any form of conventional (i.e. potentially harmful) weaponry or b) move more than 50 metres away from SCP-4377.

The net result of this process is that both groups will continuously engage in combat with one another, unable to do serious harm beyond paper-cuts and bruises (which are both inflicted with abnormal ease, and heal unusually rapidly). SCP-4377 seems to take pleasure in 'observing'3 this conflict, and has been observed turning to face areas of activity, making soft, high-pitched vocalisations, and clapping its arms together repeatedly when an injury occurs. The conflict has progressed uninterrupted since the entity's creation.

Addendum: On 2008-04-20, during a lull of activity, SCP-4377 became unusually frustrated and proceeded to stamp its feet repeatedly, bend over to observe those around it, and quietly roar. PoI-4377 instances then began to expel several replica slings, pikes, and cannons alongside the standard array of weaponry.

Since this event, the potential destructive capacity of weapons produced by SCP-4377 has been gradually increasing, and the ferocity of the surrounding combat has been escalating continuously. Cardboard firearms capable of producing high-velocity paper balls became part of the normal production around 2013, and in May 2019, PoI-4377-02 orally expelled an entire 1:1 scale model of a WW2-era Spitfire over the course of three days4.

Based on the rate of escalation thus far, involved individuals are expected to approach current levels of technological advancement around 2025. The likelihood of either side acquiring pseudo-nuclear capabilities, and the effect that said capabilities would have on both the localised conflict and global geopolitics, is unknown.

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