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Description: SCP-5482 is a condition which spontaneously arises within Foundation personnel, especially those concerned with the study of anomalous environments and locations.1 It is unknown whether it affects persons not employed by the Foundation.
Individuals affected by SCP-5482, designated SCP-5482-1, suffer from adverse reactions to water.2 Individuals who had close interpersonal relationships with previous instances of SCP-5482-1 are highly susceptible to being affected by SCP-5482 in future.
SCP-5482 is incurable and its effects increase in severity and scope over time until death.
Due to the extreme inconsistency with which SCP-5482 appears and operates, it is impossible to provide any meaningful information about the disease or the pathology of its sufferers.
Addendum 5482.1: Partial list of SCP-5482 cases + Access fileserv:/S:/5482/fileserv/earlycases Subject: Lieutenant Kiara Anenasya Date of Onset: 23/09/20 (first recorded occurrence of SCP-5482) Summary: On September 23rd 2020, Lieutenant Anenasya of MTF Lambda-77 (“Demersal Scotopic”)3 regurgitated several litres of saltwater while conversing with a containment engineer. She did not appear to be surprised by the event. The engineer recalled her smiling, placing her hand in front of her mouth and saying "I missed you." before walking away.
Site security, upon learning of the incident, attempted to locate Lt. Anenasya.
They were successful in tracking her to a forest several dozen kilometres from her home. Upon sighting the retrieval team, the lieutenant smiled and began humming. Due to the sudden appearance of a fog bank, visual contact was briefly lost. Security personnel were not successful in reacquiring her.
She has not been sighted since.
Subject: Captain Minerva Skye Date of Onset: 24/09/20 Summary: The day after Lieutenant Anenasya’s disappearance Captain Skye - another member of Lambda-77 - was discovered dead in the bathroom of her residence. Her hands had been severely mutilated and several hundred grams of skin, muscle and cortical bone were found in the basin of her sink. Three dull razors were found in her pocket.
It was determined that her wounds were self-inflicted. In spite of this, her death was not due to blood loss but instead benzodiazepine overdose.
During autopsy, her blood refused to coagulate and her body did not exsanguinate, instead bleeding continuously until all of her open wounds were sealed.
A three minute long video was found on her phone, recorded an hour before her discovery of her body. It depicts her holding her hand over her sink and piercing her ulnar and radial arteries in multiple locations, losing several litres of blood over the course of the video.4 She can be heard repeatedly whispering "I won't go back" for its entire duration.
Subject: Private Adam Asakku Date of Onset: 26/09/20 Summary: Private Asakku, the only remaining member of Lambda-77, was informed of the situation and voluntarily confined himself to Site-56 under daytime supervision, with the working theory at the time being that an anomalous entity or effect was targeting members of his MTF. He refused contact with all water and water-containing solutions, in spite of the obvious risks to his health. Over the following days he began regurgitating small amounts of water, often while attempting to speak, and suffered from periods of intense and uncontrollable lacrimation, which evolved into weeping and emotional discomfort.
Asakku reported whispering and singing coming from the West-facing walls of Site-56 and demanded they be covered in soundproof foam. Although the request was granted, he continued to complain about the noise and claimed that Lake Garda, located several kilometres East of Site-56, was singing to him. An offer to allow him to shower elicited an intensely negative response, necessitating his sedation.
He also began hallucinating large objects or environments 'inside' bodies of water. For example, he reported seeing underwater forests, mountain ranges and ruins within three different glasses of water. When asked to judge the depth of a swimming pool, he responded that it was at least seventeen kilometres in depth and filled with the silhouettes of "leviathans and carrion bloats".5 He demanded that the pool be drained so that there was no possibility of anyone "falling away." Asakku eventually suffered a psychotic break and used a nail file to crudely remove his ears, eyes, much of his gums, and his tongue.6 Post-mortem, his blood was found to be significantly clearer than that of a normal person and contained almost no plasma.
Addendum 5482.2: Extended case study, Senior Researcher Jacquelyn Vanth + Access fileserv:/S:/5482/fileserv/casestudy Subject: Doctor Jacquelyn Vanth Date of Onset: 23/09/21 Summary: Dr Vanth was diagnosed with SCP-5482 exactly one year after the anomaly's emergence. At the time, she was the lead researcher of SCP-5482, having volunteered for the position since the initial classification of the phenomenon. Once she became aware of her status as an instance of SCP-5482-1, she deferred her responsibilities to a subordinate and chose to use herself to study the progression of the disease.
Document: Transcript of “230921652.mp4”, voice recording by Dr Vanth Sixty hours. That’s the average period between the onset of symptoms and death. You won’t find it on the file, though, because it’s not an indicator of how long someone will survive. We pulled out all the stops for Adam and he barely lasted three days. Others have lived for four, even five without any intervention. It has nothing to do with how well-protected you are. Death takes you when it feels like it.
I don’t know why but 5482 feels expected. Like I was waiting for it. I guess I was, in a way. The turnover rate for MTFs is ridiculous. We’ve all heard the horror stories, of agents getting lost in the woods and never being heard from again, or of MTFs being picked off one by one as they attempt to navigate a house of horrors. So for my team and I to have lived so long? It was more than a little incredible.
I’d always just assumed that I’d die on the job, trapped in another world or tortured ‘till the end of my days by a sadistic locus.7 My departure from Lambda-77 was an anticlimax, ergo 5482 seems like something which has been a long time coming.
Last night I had an odd dream. I woke up in my parents’ house. It was raining outside but the lights were on. The night was warm. I heard odd noises from far away and so I stood on my toes and glanced out the window. I saw the lake curl toward the horizon, black and depthless. It whispered to me and asked me to come outside. I did, while the rain pelted my back. It wasn’t cold; it felt more like being breathed on. Not even in a creepy way, it was more like intimate, as if someone was holding me close and exhaling into my hair. I stepped up to the edge of the water and knelt down. I just listened to it, humming with my mother’s voice.
When I was young I used to run along the lake’s edges and look for odd rocks or sticks. I’d bring breadcrumbs to feed to the birds and a polaroid to take pictures of bugs and the odd rabbit. My mum would tell me to stay away from the shore, but there was one time that I saw a fox perched on a branch near the bank of the pond. It didn’t move as I crept toward it, just gave me an odd sort of look. I got close enough to touch it and so I reached out and… slipped.
The lake rose up to meet me. I tried to swim upward but the pressure just kept building above me and pushing me down. I couldn’t fight it off; I was only a child. I didn’t feel any fear though, or any pain. There was a burning sensation in my lungs but it was distant and easy to ignore. The weight of the water felt protective, almost. I closed my eyes and let bits of algae wrap around my arms. Something living swirled underneath me. I sensed it by the way in which the water moved around its body as it beat its fins. We both flinched as soon as we saw each other. It disappeared into the depths and I almost swam after it out of sheer curiosity.
I passed out. Next thing I knew, my mother was humming while she held my head in her lap. She was singing this beautiful lullaby.
For years afterwards, I kept fantasising about diving into the lake again. I wandered further than I ever had into the woods, not scared in the least of getting lost. I wanted to experience that sensation again, of being submerged in something wholly unfamiliar. It’s why I signed up to be a member of Lambda-77 in the first place. It took me years for me to learn my lesson and grow out of that stupid obsession.
5482 targets people who’ve seen strange places: realities of blood and bone, universes living through the aftermath of catastrophe, inexplicable places of all kinds. Does it come from them, somehow? And if it can sing, does it think?
It's predatory, that much I can assume, but what does it want from me?
Fuck it, whatever. I hope it chokes on my bones.
Document: Transcript of “240921802.mp4”, voice recording by Dr Vanth Last night I dreamt of an endless forest. It was foggy and there was a path of trampled ferns before me. There was a time when I would’ve gladly gone down that road to chase new sights and novelties. Instead I sat down and waited until I woke up. I used to be so in love with that feeling of discovery, of stepping through a portal or over a border only to cross over from the normal world into something fantastic and otherly. My seniors would call me incautious, my peers would say that my curiosity would be the death of me, of all of us. They turned out to be right. I don’t remember anything about how Devana died, just that it could’ve been avoided. We weren't careful. I wasn't watching out for him.
I know you probably went to the grave hating me for it, Skye, but I had to leave after we lost him. It was too painful to stick around. Exploration started to daunt me, and foreign suns seemed not as bright.
(Laughs) Listen to me, talking to the dead. I suppose I’ll be with them soon.
The water’s gotten louder, and different bodies have acquired their own cadences. The ocean is an open-mouthed tone while the rain is a murmur.
This morning I was washing my hands and the water tore away some of my skin when I pulled my fingers out of the stream. My hair is damp and it can’t be dried. The effects are worsening. I don’t know how I’ll die. Regardless, I’m losing my connection to reality. It's odd, being aware of how I’m slipping away. I sang along with the rain earlier.
Most of the other 5482-1s developed an intense fear of water. Adam’s the crown example of course, having mutilated himself just to stop listening to its singing. I’m not sure if I feel that same terror. It reminds me of something, instead. It’s picking at old scabs, unearthing memories too decayed to recall but just firm enough to evoke the feeling I used to associate with them.
I remember… rustling leaves, weight on my back, a brisk wind, the days I spent far from home just taking in the nature all around me. The woods around my house, I can barely recall what they were like. Now I want to go back and find out all over again. Mark out all the clearings, photograph all the flowers, watch sunlight spill through the canopy, and twinkle in the dirt… … remember to check everything that I say for cognitohazards.
Document: Transcript of “250921937.mp4”, voice recording by Dr Vanth It rained yesterday while I was commuting. I put down my umbrella and let the raindrops slide over my cheeks. They drew blood. I felt my skin and fat peeling away, the humours of my eye gliding down my neck. It didn’t hurt even a little. It was like falling asleep.
After Devana’s death, I convinced myself that my curiosity was a liability. I conformed, I learned to fear the unknown. I wish I hadn't done that; I wish I'd seen more of the world. Maybe it would have been wonderful, or perhaps my life would have been cut short… but it wouldn’t have mattered. As long as I could've witnessed one more sunrise, smelled one more flower, heard another song. I can't go on like this, buried in normalcy.
I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. 5482 isn't ravenous, it's grieving. It misses me so much, wishes I would return to it. It’s me, before I was stained by loss and cautionary tales. I was convinced by my loss to believe that the other had to hate me. That was never true.
Am I still scared? Of course, but I am more afraid of being alone in the light than hated in the dark. I'm afraid of the world having limits.
I think-, no, I feel like this is right. Wherever I end up will be terrible, vast, unknowable… and beautiful.
[Several minutes of the sound of rainfall. Vanth laughs softly.] I missed you too.
Footnotes 1. Such as extradimensional spaces, anomalous biomes and parallel universes.
2. The nonspecificity of this statement accounts for the anomaly's irregular behaviour.
3. A mobile task force specialising in the exploration of hostile environments such as areas defined by extreme temperatures, toxic atmospheres or hostile fauna.
4. Losing as little as two litres of blood is almost always immediately fatal.
5. Asakku's mannerisms were deeply affected by SCP-5482.
6. Notable as being moist exterior surfaces of the body with the exception of his ears.
7. A colloquialism for a space possessing both agency and intelligence, effectively a living location.
« SCP-5481 | SCP-5482 | SCP-5483 » ‡ Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-5482" by Tiamat Elsen, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https:// scpwiki.com/scp-5482. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.
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