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Observation of the perimeter zone should occur daily via satellite footage and aerial drones. Some tasks will require personal inspection or interference by trained agents, but these should be conducted sparingly as human presence near SCP-7804 is ill- advised. Agents are expected to confirm the presence of a number of environmental effects and note any significant deviations from normal data. Refer to Document-A for a comprehensive outline of required observations; a summarized list is provided below.
Monday: Confirm the presence of wildlife carcasses. Note the species, number, and concentration of deaths. Note if carcasses appear to be consumed in any way, and in what manner. Report to containment teams immediately if carcasses appear within SCP-7804, or if precipitation in the area occurs.
Tuesday: Observation on this day consists of two parts. Morning; confirm the rapid emergence of flowers. Note the location and density of animal species and include any unusual behavior. Minimal interaction is permitted to assess fear responses. Non-native species must be recorded and tracked for signs of movement out of the perimeter zone at the conclusion of the broadcast.
Evening; observe astronomical movements and note unusual arrangements of stars.
Highlight movement or appearance of Red/Orange color types and note arrangement.
See attached image for known astronomical patterns. If precipitation occurs during either half of observation, alert containment teams immediately.
Wednesday: Record ambient moisture and salinity. Note mutations in local wildlife in addition to the emergence of unusual species. Genetically deviant species should be captured, if possible, or destroyed by any means. Captured species should be documented and incinerated. Note the presence, coloration, and height of cloud cover and report precipitation immediately.
Thursday: Record changes to the physical terrain and assess if the geologic material is of celestial origin. Confirm the appearance of impossible geological formations, chemistry of liquids, or biological growth in violation of natural laws. Observation should be conducted remotely, as contact with impossible terrain risks transferring its properties. Precipitation will not outwardly possess unusual properties but should still be considered anomalous and highly dangerous.
Friday: Fire containment teams should be on standby to suppress flames should electrical failure occur within SCP-7804. If flames are present, observers should note the color and temperature. Teams must use a dry chemical suppression system (sodium bicarbonate and mono-ammonium phosphate) for maximum effectiveness. Precipitation, should it occur, will not extinguish flames.
Saturday: Note the efficacy of natural and artificial reflective surfaces. Document wildlife behaving unusually around reflective surfaces. The appearance of new reflective surfaces should be recorded and subsequently obstructed. Eye contact is not to be made with reflective figures at any time. Wind speed and ambient moisture will increase throughout the day. Premature precipitation should be noted.
Sunday: All personnel are denied access to SCP-7804 on Sunday. Observation is not to occur on Sunday. Personnel must devote Sunday to personal projects and not perform any work duties relating to SCP-7804 with the sole exception of perimeter patrols.
Individuals attempting to exit SCP-7804 on Sunday should be destroyed. Precipitation is expected and should not be reported.
DESCRIPTION: SCP-7804 is a transmitting mast radiator initially operated by an unknown telecommunication company (see below) and built at an unknown time. It is constructed of tubular steel and stands at 53.34 meters in height. Analysis suggests the tower was originally painted in alternating stripes of red and white but has since turned black due to decay from exposure to the elements. It continuously transmits at a longwave frequency of 150.6 kHz, covering a range of roughly 2,000 kilometers, and operates regardless of human presence.
SCP-7804 has been retrofitted with electronic and analog equipment not typically used for radio-transmitting masts of similar design. Modifications include RG-59/U coaxial cables insulated with bark from the Sequoioideae subfamily, loading coils coated in non- decaying hemoglobin, and seven subterranean funerary boxes, empty, attached to SCP-7804 via copper cables, among others. See Addenda for a full list of modifications.
While the exact purpose and capabilities of this equipment are unknown, it is suspected that the alterations may aid SCP-7804 in acquiring and "translating" a broadcast signal from an anomalous source.
At the base of the tower is an operating booth designed for prolonged human presence.
At the time of discovery, the booth was padlocked with an attached note reading, "Notice: Condemned - Building in violation of Seismic code 1977 and Occult code 0918.
Do Not Kill." The booth is fitted with bunk space and living amenities but has fallen into severe disrepair. Evidence of habitation — canned food, water jugs, blankets, etc. — was documented, along with the remains of a human, skeletalized, sitting upright in a swivel chair at the booth's control terminal. A pair of headphones were fused with the skull and playing audio from SCP-7804's broadcast at the time of discovery. The terminal was determined not to be the source of the broadcast; rather, it connects directly to the tower, capturing, refining, and transmitting the audio through an ill-understood process. The following note was attached to the terminal at the time of discovery: D, I've done what I can. The sermon's rigged to repeat as long as there's a signal coming in. Keep this up and running and we'll be set for a long time. Or is that the fire talking? If you ever want to shut it off, don't. You can't. Do not kill. Trust me, you're better off hearing this shit on the radio where you can turn the volume down and not in your head like some of the guys back home.
Don't worry about power either, I've got that covered.
See you soon, J.
P.S. If you're not in the club and you found this place on a dare, come back Sunday. See what the fuss is all about!
The booth, and by extension the tower, is not connected to a power source but operates regardless. Recovered documents place SCP-7804 under the care and operation of a Black Mountain Transmitting Co., which claims to provide high-quality radio service to 85% of North America through a network of broadcasting towers. No evidence outside of SCP-7804 corroborates this claim.
Inside the operating booth is a tall redwood door fitted with intricate brasswork much older than either the booth or the tower. An engraving on the front reads "THE AGGREGATION." The door is weather-worn and damaged in some areas. Its locking mechanism is nonfunctional and shows evidence of various attempts at reinforcements.
The door, when opened, leads to a nondescript storage closet (Variable. See below).
SCP-7804 broadcasts on a repeating schedule. The contents of each transmission vary depending on the day of the week. Each broadcast week is identical. See below for summaries or contact Archives for detailed transcripts of each broadcast.
Monday: Broadcast begins at 6:00 a.m. local time. Feminine voice greets listeners with the following message: Good morning. Today is one. There is rain coming. It is dry now but will rain on the seventh day of our broadcast. The pantheon prepares for our gathering. Until then let us honor the seven of the new age. Tune in each day and convene on the seventh. Follow the rain and you will know when the ascent is prepared. We dedicate this broadcast to the bloody lion Khaulamezia [unintelligible]. He is king of the pantheon. Our god of violence and the natural order of things. Please let our humility satiate the hunger. Let the flesh of the forest soothe you and lull your sleep. Let our bones and blood suffice. Did you see it, in the dream? Last night he killed the bird. He killed but did not eat. Why? The flesh is pure but we are not. Today's artist is Wet Velvet Goat with the song 'You Will Never Understand.' White noise for two minutes followed by sixteen hours of ambient music.
Sound ebbs and flows and is layered with instruments of varying frequency and intensity at half-hour intervals.
The track is overpowered by low guttural tones at eleven hours and the quality of the broadcast begins to degrade. Eventually, a high-pitched woodwind instrument pierces the din. This instrument begins fast and intricate and grows more powerful over the disharmony until all other sounds fade away. The woodwind then becomes lethargic and eventually settles on a single tone which it holds for the remainder of the track. Broadcast ends with a prayer: [Unintelligible] says the lion, Khaulamezia.
[Unintelligible] and rejoice. He accepts our humility and He sleeps once more. We shall eat in his honor and mind our manners. [Unintelligible, chorus of voices]. Be humble, and good night.
Tuesday: Broadcast begins at 6:00 a.m. local time. Feminine voice greets listeners with the following message: Good morning. Today is two. Rain is coming. Not today, but soon. Shelter the kindling from the sky and keep dry the children. The morning is dedicated to serenity, to the twinkling rose Piercea of the dream. The rose grows now on the grass flat under the dark sky. There is no light but the rose and it gives us peace. It gives peace and calms the heart. When you fall, land in the light of the rose for your bones will not break and your fire will not die. Enjoy the morning sun.
Audio plays an unedited recording of a natural soundscape for eight hours.
Birds and insects are audible, as well as occasional mammals. Confirmed species include Sylvia atricapilla (Blackcap), Strix aluco (Tawny owl), Accipiter gentilis (Northern goshawk), Nemobius sylvestris (Wood cricket), Capreolus capreolus (Roe deer), Procyon lotor (Raccoon), among others (See Addenda for comprehensive species list and attached notes). Animal vocalizations grow in number and volume continually for the duration of the recording. All vocalizations cease at seven hours and fifty minutes at which point muted thunder is heard and rain begins to fall. Audio then abruptly cuts to white noise.
Feminine voice returns with the following message.
The morning turns to dusk and we must believe it.
Understand it and give thanks to it. So that it cannot hurt us. The dusk is dedicated to the Constellation Hornet. Look up above. The clouds break and you can see it now. The red and orange specks of paint grow larger and sharper every cycle. It will reach us one day and sting the earth with poison. Bite and chew and nest until we are all hollowed out. The stars do not lie and all the gods know it. It will happen. But not today. Not for a long time. Dusk is to remind us of our doom, Beshult.
Look up and remember and observe and smile that it is still far, far away.
Audio of a choir of feminine voices plays, overlaid by desynchronized synthesized tones. Choir sings two tones, one high and one low, repeatedly.
Tones mirror the choir but remain audibly disconnected from the voices.
Masculine voices join to replace the synthesized tones, growing progressively louder and more aggressive. Synthesized tones return to mirror the masculine voices in volume and strength. Feminine voices become inaudible. Synthetic tone overpowers the masculine voices until they too fade away entirely. The synthetic tone maintains its strength and volume for several hours until it abruptly cuts to reveal the nearly imperceptible sound of buzzing underlying the track. Feminine voice closes the broadcast with a prayer: The rose Piercea and the Constellation Hornet. We give thanks to the pantheon that we may live with the rose and not the stars. Yet as we weep for the world our children must inherit we pay respect to the constellation. All gods of the pantheon must be honored no matter how terrible. That is the will of the bells. And we must respect that. Don't forget, and good night.
Wednesday: Broadcast begins at 6:00 a.m. local time. Feminine voice greets listeners with the following message: Good morning. Today is three. Rain clouds gather. As we approach the great change let us remember our beginnings.
Picture in your mind the image we're born with. The black cliffs. Do you see? Look down now into the white fog.
Watch it clear and be blown by the winds. Ah, the green sea, I see it now. Watch for the flukes of monsters and the writhing mass of fish. Watch them tear each other apart. Watch them fight to live. Remember our ancestors in the soup of life. The salt cleanses the skin. Makes us stronger. This broadcast is dedicated to the primordial sea. From the whale's mouth we came and to the whale's mouth we will return. The sea will claim us back. All will return and become whole again. The following song is untitled, by Dogfish.
Track consists of a throbbing bass echoed by higher synth tones. Noise pulses rhythmically, accentuated by heavy guitar chords and cymbal crashes.
A dull, high-pitched ringing grows in strength, then fades away. Guitars and drums fade, then return. Vocals enter, but the throbbing bass makes the words indistinguishable. Voice is aggressive but indistinct. Voice cries out in pain or joy. Vocals fade and the synth tones get louder. Track ends with bass.
Feminine voice closes the broadcast with a prayer: There can be no end without the beginning. We cannot welcome the new gods without a sense of time. Let the gods fight and die in the brine. So that they can emerge strong and lead us to a new age. Look forward to the great convergence. Anticipate, and good night.
Thursday: Broadcast begins at 6:00 a.m. local time. Feminine voice greets listeners with the following message: Good morning. Today is four. It is colder than yesterday.
Darkness on the horizon. The calls draw nearer. We catch glimpses of the other between blinks. We see the world as its inverse. Mailumar, the moon and the planet as one.
Its body is foreign. Its rocks are strange and hostile to the eye. They twist and mock the senses, the colors offputting. Its dust holds no remembrance of the suffering of man. Its water is poison, thick and oily.
Its life is vile. Strange fish and stranger things tall and arching. Yet in it we see what was, is, and is yet to be. We see our future. We see all possibilities. Today's broadcast is dedicated to the other, Mailumar. We send our ambassadors to confer with what is not and never could be. We hope the other gives us audience. And now a message from the envoy, titled 'Human.' Track begins with low tones punctuated by human whistling. Drums enter, followed by vocals.
White rock highway Field of space Hear her whisper On the fall of dusk And the break of dawn Call on one One of a kind Go now and see Come back and tell You will never understand Track stops to play itself in reverse. Lyrics remain intelligible despite the audial distortion.
White rock highway Final Frontier Stretch like taffy She waits for us And smiles when we try There is room enough But is there time?
Go now and see She calls me now Go now and see And come back quick Feminine voice closes the broadcast with a prayer: The other waits patient for our time. We give thanks to the planet Mailumar. Keep her close so we may hear her whispers. We pray our bodies may one day be ready for the voyage. Blessings to the ambassadors. Let them return triumphant and in good spirits. Humanity will evolve like it always must. Let it be painless. Prepare, and good night.
Friday: Broadcast begins at 6:00 a.m. local time. Feminine voice greets listeners with the following message: Good morning. Today is five. The clouds are gathering, growing darker. Something stirs from within us. We devote this broadcast to the Inferno, Knowledge, the all- consuming. Warm our bodies and heads but do not eat us.
We put our faith in you, inferno, to show you that we can. Please let this sacrifice be enough. We give ourselves unto you.
Track transitions to the snapping and popping of wood by fire. Sound persists at a dull volume for a considerable length of time. Abrupt coughing from multiple sources transitions to screaming. Sounds of panic and shuffling.
Several objects fall and shatter. Banging on walls and pleas for help. Loud groan, then explosion. Broadcast abruptly cuts and an artificial voice warns viewers of technical difficulties. Broadcast remains disabled for the remainder of the day.
Saturday: Broadcast begins at 6:00 a.m. local time. Feminine voice greets listeners with the following message: Good morning. Today is six. The fog rolls off the trees like a bad word. Soak in the sky before the clouds blot it out and pour water down our throats. Today's broadcast is dedicated to the self. It is a day for examination and reflection. It is a day of judgment. Count your sheep and your children. Sharpen the axe. Set right your business.
The clock strikes midnight and all will be forgiven at last. Walk down your halls in the dead of night. Approach your mirror and gaze at it. Trace the contours of the face and remember it well. Feel the age and the errors.
But do not look closely at the details. You must remember that it is not your face. The mirror reveals but it also distorts. It has its fun. It beckons and you must laugh.
This next song is made for you.
Track is variable depending on the listener. Reports consistently describe the sound as organic and deeply personal, as if it is recorded from within the listener's body. Listeners unanimously agree that the content of the sound is familiar but intangibly offputting. Many recall a dream they had in their youth where they woke in the dead of night to hear a loved one awake in another room; upon investigating, they are distracted by a large mirror and find that their reflection hates them.
Feminine voice closes the broadcast with a prayer: We hope that message was enlightening. Self-reflection is important but often challenging. The mirror grants vision of what cannot be seen but do not submit to it. When it beckons know that it lies. It hates you. Remember to laugh. Smile, and good night.
Sunday: Broadcast begins at 6:00 a.m. local time. The gentle pattering of rain on dead leaves. Wind through needles. The air is cold and sharpens the senses. Feminine voice greets listeners with the following message: The doors are open wide. Communion with the pantheon begins. Single file, all will pass. This broadcast is dedicated to the calling of the bells. Let them spell the arrival of a new age from the timeless threads that bind us.
Church bells toll seven times for seven gods. The morning is still dark but the line is already getting long. You should gather your things quick and hope there is still time. Everyone wants out and Sunday is only so long. You know how people are.
Track transitions to footage of a handheld recording device. The photographer is at the base of a mountain surrounded by colleagues. It is the first recorded expedition behind the door in SCP-7804. The photographer is nervous and the camera shakes.
You cover your head from the sky. It's cold and you don't want to get wet standing in line. It'll be at least an hour before your turn. The rain washes everything around and reveals things long hidden. Things better left dead. Do you remember the prayers? The greeting? Clap bow clap bow. Practice before you enter. Seven days of prayers have led to this. Make sure to get it right.
The photographer arrives at the base of SCP-7804. They walk a perimeter around it. It is raining heavily and is very foggy. There is light coming from the observation booth. The photographer approaches and enters the temple.
Walk forward. The hall has grown since you last entered. The faith is doing well, it seems. Delicate intricacies carved into the polished white marble depict the story of your people. Of the death of the old and the coming of the new. Seven statues. The lion. The rose and stars. The whale. The planet.
The fire. The mirror. The bells. They stare expectantly and you greet each one. Clap bow clap bow. The line trails on ahead, past the altars and the prayer rooms, to the foot of the winding staircase, its doors wide and beckoning. Blinding light consumes all who enter. Their eyes and mouths are open to let it all in. You've never seen what lies past the doors but you know it's what everyone has been waiting for. You don't feel the rain anymore. It's your turn to enter.
The observation booth is empty except for the skeleton in the chair. It twitches ever so slightly. The transmitter is on and receiving. Bells, each chime weakening the border between here and there. The photographer freezes.
A sound from behind and below, all at once. They turn to face the door. Light streaks across the floor from beneath its red wood. The photographer approaches and dreads. The Aggregation. They twist the knob and push it open. It creaks with the sound of a thousand years and spills its secrets into the eye of the camera. It is a staircase made of rotting wood and ancient mud, leading down. Electric bulbs light the path deep into the earth.
Wailing from somewhere below. They talk into a radio but there is only static. The signal is obscured by something bigger. The photographer descends.
You've been down here for so long. The dirt soaks your pores and fills your lungs. You want to breathe. You need to. The sensation of weight on your skin has never quite gone away even after all this time. You look behind you.
Countless people silhouetted against the blinding light. You can see the anticipation in their eyes. You look ahead. Countless more climb up and up.
The marble stairs of the temple beneath your feet turn to wood the higher you go. The faces of seven new gods stare absently down from the bright abyss. The white gives way to dark and you're surrounded by mud on all sides. Lights sway above, brushed gently by the shoulders of those ahead.
The bells echo from somewhere beyond.
The photographer descends carefully. There is movement.
Gentle shifting of the light. Shadows crossing over each other. They listen carefully and hear a sound. Music. No, humming. Wordless. Desperate. Then there is another sound. Footsteps. The approach of visitors. Or are they the true people? Passing through, or are they returning?
The doors have opened. It is the seventh day and all have come to see.
Figures ascend to the sound of bells. They each pass the photographer and smile. Dirt falls from their mouths and water drips from their soaked shirts. Their eyes are milky and their skin full of holes. It’s a miracle, they say, a second chance at life. They can hardly believe their prayers have been answered.
« SCP-7803 | SCP-7804 | SCP-7805 » ‡ Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-7804" by Its a Bad Idea, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https:// scpwiki.com/scp-7804. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.
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Filename: radiomast Name: File:Radio Mast on Glessal Hill - geograph.org.uk - 4320040.jpg Author: Billy McCrorie License: CC-BY-2.0 Source Link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/ File:Radio_Mast_on_Glessal_Hill_-_geograph.org.uk_-_4320040.jpg Derivative of: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/ File:Radio_Mast_on_Glessal_Hill_-_geograph.org.uk_-_4320040.jpg Additional Notes: Edit of the original to be black and white.
_cc_licenseboxanimalartifactbuildingcadaverextraterrestrialfeaturedfiregeologicalketerliquidmeteorolo page revision: 12, last edited: 26 Oct 2024 23:26 Edit Rate (+140) Tags Discuss (15) History Files Print Site tools + Options Edit Sections Append Edit Meta Watchers Backlinks Page Source Parent Lock Page Rename Delete Help  | Terms of Service  | Privacy  | Report a bug  | Flag as objectionable Powered by Wikidot.com Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License Click here to edit contents of this page.
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