The SCP Experience - We Summoned a Demon for Halloween | SCP-1083

Episode Date: October 26, 2026

On Halloween night, six teenagers decide to skip the usual festivities and experiment with a mysterious artifact stolen from an SCP Foundation employee's private collection. What begins as a reckless attempt to summon and outsmart a demon quickly takes a disturbing turn when they discover that some things are better left untouched. With midnight approaching, the friends find themselves facing something far more dangerous than they ever imagined. ⁠ This story is derived from ⁠The SCP Foundation Database⁠ and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0.⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ ⁠⁠⁠ Author:  Jake Bible * * * CONTENT DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content not limited to intense themes, strong language, and depictions of violence intended for adults. Parental guidance is strongly advised for children under the age of 18. Listener discretion is advised.  #thescpexperience #scp #scpfoundation #scpencounters #securecontainprotect #scpstories Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The guys, Tom, Tim, and Matt, all stand behind Ridley as the teenager turns the dial on the safe. They are almost humming with energy in their randomly put-together Halloween costumes. The twins, Tom and Tim, are dressed as pirates. The exact same outfit, except Tom has his eye patch on his right eye, while Tim has his on his left eye. Matt is wearing a toga and has been telling everyone that's all he's wearing. There were some laughs early, but everyone is tired of the joke now, except for his girlfriend Bree, who keeps trying to lift the toga

and see the lack of anything underneath. Arbro, let's do this already. We gotta do this before midnight. Our Halloween is over, and we all walk the plank. The twins laugh and high five. Matt gives one of them, Tim, maybe, a shove. Then focuses on his best friend's struggle with the safe. Ignore the twins, Rids. Just work on the combo.

The two teen girls, Donna and Bree, dressed as an 80s rock star and a sexy cavewoman respectively, lean against the wall by the office door, each sipping something way too pink and way too sweet. Donna grimaces at her sip. Bree smiles indulgently at hers. Mine means more grenadine, too sour. There is like two pounds of sugar in these. You do not need more. Bree shrugs and keeps sipping.

Donna just watches the guys as Ridley tries to crack his father safe. She's a little miffed at her boyfriend, Ridley, for not going out to the old drive-in theater that is open for one night only. Even with the rain outside on the chilly October night, it would have been fun. But Ridley insisted he had something way better in store. You sure about this? Won't your dad be pissed?

Don't distract him. Donna glares at the twins, who are both mouthing, Arr, at her, and almost throws her too sweet drink at them. Outside, way out on the street, the last trick-or-treaters shout and play, except not one has come to Ridley's front door.

The neighborhood seems to sense that house is off. Let's play a game or something instead. Like spin the bottle? I'm in, but I'm not kissing my brother. Guys, shut up. Ridley concentrates, making sure he doesn't overshunders, shoot the mark and turn the safe's dial too far. Then you'll have to start all over, which will

take forever since the safe doesn't have a three-number combination, but a six-number one. Your dad really doesn't trust you, Ridley shrugs. He doesn't trust anyone. He's foundation. I don't think they know about half the stuff he's brought home. What's that mean again? She burps and waves her hand in front of her face. Sorry, Donna. That was a nasty one. Not jos. rolls her eyes and pushes away from the wall, then turns and walks out of Ridley's dad's office. I'm going to watch Netflix. Let me know when you found the hidden treasure. What? Donna, hold on. I'm almost... Damn it. Ridley's shoulders slump and his head droops. You gotta start over? You gotta start over. Outside the office, Donna walks the long hallway,

studying the odd pictures and photos and pieces of strange art. At the far end of the hall, A grandfather clock ticks away. Its hands read 20 past 11. There's a black and white photograph of a man sitting in a wicker chair. It looks like his legs are on backwards. An oil painting of a house fire, but the smoke is seeping into the ground, not rising into the sky. Some strange mask straight out of an old exploitation movie about jungle tribes and cannibals. It would look more at home at a Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum. Although Ridley's house, because of his father's job, is pretty close to an oddity's museum. Gays and point. Donna spots something very interesting, a mirror. As she approaches it, she swears she sees faces peering out at her.

But when she meets it head on, it's just a mirror showing only her reflection. She steps to the side and sees faces, horrible, tortured faces, mouths wide open, screaming. Then she squares up with the mirror and only sees herself. Side, tortured faces.

face on, just her. She does this over and over, still hearing the boys in the office bickering because it sounds like Ridley screwed up again, while also hearing the last few kids out on the street, back and forth, tortured, just her, tortured, just her, tortured, just her. Donna stumbles back, her butt hitting a side table

and nearly knocking a lamp onto the floor. She catches the thing, and for a second, it riggles in her palms. Not like it's slipping, like it's tasting her. The bulb flickers, and she smells something like burnt hair. Then the lamp goes still, almost disappointed, and she hurriedly sets it back at the far end of the table and wipes her hands on her costume.

There's the sound of high-fives, and the twins start whoop, whoop-whoop-whooping. Donna walks back to the office and peers in. Good job, guys. I'm so proud of you. The twins flip her off and tell her to shut up. Matt doesn't say anything. He's focused on the item in Ridley's hands. The teenager has just hauled a blue crystal skull out of his father's safe. He holds it awkwardly in one hand, braced against his hip.

The thing weighs as much as two bowling balls. Ridley looks at Matt and smiles. Then he looks at the office door and smiles wider. Told you I'd get in, Don's. Donna smirks. Then she gives her boyfriend a wink and leans against the doorframe. Yep, you did it, Rids. Now what?

Everyone glances from Ridley to the skull. It has the look of quartz, more cloudy than clear, but isn't white or rose or even purple. It's a light blue, like the water in the bay of some tropical island. The thing is not symmetrical. It's rather malformed, as if someone stepped on one side than tried to twist it. Reburps. It looks yucky. Tom grabs the skull out of Ridley's hands with both of his own before anyone can do or say anything.

He staggers back several feet under its weight, avoiding Matt's swipes at him and uses his twin brother as a shield. Whoa, it's so cold, bro. I think it's... His voice falls off, and his jaw goes slack. Tom's eyes become dull and almost lifeless. If he wasn't obviously breathing, he could easily be confused with a standing corpse. Bro? Just a tiny bit of drool tries to escape the corner of Tom's mouth. It sits there, threatening to spill over.

Then Tom blinks wildly and shakes his head, sucking the drool back in automatically. He holds out the skull, and Ridley quickly takes it with one hand. Ridley holds it up, showing the others. You can't hold it with both hands, or it'll get weird. Tim frowns at his twin brother. Bro, you good? Tom blinks some more, then smiles at Tim. He turns and smiles at everyone.

They all wait for him to say something. He gives them a thumbs up. I'm hungry. You got any jalapeno poppers, Rids? I could go for some jalapeno paupers right now. Reburps. Me too. Ridley steps up to Tom and looks him in the eye. Maslow's hierarchy of needs or self-determination, go. Bro, what did you just ask him and why?

Ridley holds up a finger, and Matt quiets down. Tom crunches up his face. Well, that depends. Maslow really is overhyped, and his views on human. in existence are way, way oversimplified. Whereas, self-determination theory is non-hierarchical and feels much more natural, but it can also be considered the basis and justification for Einran's objectivism. Everyone just stands there for a moment, stunned, except Ridley. His grin widens, and he holds the skull up higher. All right, let's debate some demons. Bree lifts both hands in the air and whoops, spilling some of her pink drink onto one shoulder.

I'm sorry. What? We're going to summon and debate a demon. He looks at Ridley concerned. Didn't you tell her? Um, not in so many words now. Brough, debating a demon is a tricky proposition. They are a wily bunch, known for their deceitful ways. They also cheat.

Evil tends not to follow rules or keep promises. I doubt that Lincoln Douglas rules will be adhered to. Bro, it's like you went to college in your head for three seconds. Tom turns and regards his twin. That makes no sense. Also, you're a poopy face. There's my bro. Tom scratches his butt and looks around the office.

Nice wood. He thrusts his hips. Paneling, I mean. Everyone frowns at the boy. Um, what? Yeah, there may be side effects, but I'm sure they wear off. I checked the file on the skull, and it's classified as safe. And my dad wouldn't have been able to take it out of a foundation.

side if it wasn't safe. Safe and safe. Safe, safe, safe, safe. Then the twin turns and walks out of the office, bumping Donna out of the way, his fist in the air. Halapino poppers, here I come. I want in on that. The twin follows his brother out. Bree goes with them. I better keep an eye on them. He takes off, leaving Donna and Ridley alone in the office with the blue crystal skull. Demon debate. Really, really Ridley shrugs. It's Halloween. We are too old to trick or treat. Bree is a wuss when it comes to horror movies.

And you and Matt have seen them all. Ridley nods. Yeah, true. Plus, if we go out, you're trying to find a party. You know the twins will probably get us all arrested. It's Donna's turned a nod. And the drive-in? We can still make the midnight movie.

All sold out. But I thought you got tickets. I, um, forgot. So this is why I thought of the skull at the last minute. He shrugs. Plus, it's Halloween. I bet a maniac with a machete is killing everyone there right now anyway. The couple look at each other, then smile at the same time.

Donna can't help but laugh as she shakes her head. Okay, we debate a demon. And how do we do that? Follow me. He winks and squeezes past her out into the hallway. The skull tucked against his side. Donna is right on his heels. She avoids looking at the mirror as she goes by, but she can't help glancing at the lamp.

It's moved. It was at the far end of the side table. Now it sits at the end closest to the office door, like a dog straining at its leash. Ridley walks down the hallway, but instead of turning to go into the kitchen or the living room, he stops at a part of the wall decorated with a tall tapestry depicting, well, not so pretty things. Donna recoils after really looking at the image on the tapestry. Jesus, Rids, when did your dad switch out this tapestry? She leans in close, then recoils again.

Are they eating those babies? Today, they are. The tapestry gets frisky on Halloween. Dad didn't change it. It changes itself depending on the holiday. Donna has a million questions, but can't articulate any of them. Also, she's not sure she wants to know anything. of the answers. Ridley pushes the tapestry aside, and Anna swears, she hears the screams of small

children. She hopes it's from outside and not from the tapestry. Behind the tapestry is a door, a simple door nearly flush with the wall, but with a single latch instead of a knob. Ridley clicks the latch and shoves the door open. After you, my lady. Um, no, no, you go first. Ridley winks, then cocks his head and shouts. Matt, we're in the sanctum. Bring the others and snacks and drinks. That's what we're doing. And Tom is being really strange, bro. Ridley glances down the hall at the grandfather clock, 1130.

He'll be fine. Get your butts in here so we can start. It'll be midnight soon, and we'll lose our chance. The new Subaru Cross Trek Hybrid is the most fuel-efficient cross-trek yet. That means less time filling your tank and more time filling your day. More court time. More ride time. More lake time, more camp time, more go time.

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But that wasn't supposed to include the players themselves. For records for, Jontay Porter is under NBA investigation. Athletes are the perfect gamblers. Understood. The Big Bat. Available now on Spotify. Ridley steps into the hidden room with Donna right on his heels. The place is lit only by candles, a lot of candles. and not some small votives or stinky Yankee candles.

These candles are huge, each as thick as Ridley's arms and just as long. There must be four dozen of them, all set on a shallow ledge that rings the entire room. On the floor is an oriental rug that nearly reaches from wall to wall. Set in the middle of the rug is a brass bowl with water in it. By the bowl is a sharp-looking knife. Ridley sets the skull down next to the brass bowl with a heavy thunk, then grins at Donna. What do you think?

It took me a week of sneaking in here so my dad wouldn't find out. You said you just thought of this because you couldn't get tickets to the drive-in. Ridley starts to whistle and look everywhere but at Donna. She sighs and rolls her eyes. Fine. Whatever. How come you never told me about this room?

Ridley shrugs. We mostly used it for storage. Dad had my mom's things in here for years until he finally went through it all. He kept some stuff. It's up in the attic. Losing her must have been hard. I was little, so I don't remember her well. But yeah, it sucks. The tapestry behind them is shoved aside, and Matt sticks his head in. His eyes widen.

Bro, great job. Then his features get very serious. Um, yeah. So Tom just tried to stab his brother with a kitchen knife. He laughed it off as a joke. But I don't know, bro. I think we should call it. Get Tom home. And tell his parents what? That he held a foundation skull, and now he's quoting philosophy and grabbing knives? Bro!

Listen, once we summon it, the demon has to play by the rules of the debate. We win. It owes us one favor. Anything, we make it fix Tom. And if we lose, we won't. Get everyone in here, and keep the knives away from Tom.

Matt hesitates, then nods and hurries off. Donna does a circuit of the room. studying the candles closely. She touches one, then smells the tips of her fingers. Tallow, not beeswax? Beeswax cleanses. You need tallow to draw a demon out. They love the smell of burning animal fat.

Donna shivers in disgust. Matt and Bree come through the tapestry, with Tim and Tom right behind. Each is holding a platter of food in one hand and a two-liter of soda in the other. Matt holds up his platter and raises an eyebrow. Ridley gestures to the rug closest to the wall. Everyone sets their platters and bottles down, then turns and looks at Ridley.

Now what? Now we call a demon and see if we can outsmart it. And what if we can't? Ridley nudges the blue skull with the toe of his shoe. That's what the skull is for. You hold it in both hands, and it increases your logic and reasoning abilities. It's like you become Socrates and Aristotle at the same time. Didn't one of those guys get executed?

Yes, because he knew. Oh, how he knew. He's inside your head, so don't try to hide what you've done. He already knows. Tim frowns at Ridley. Brough, is my bro going to be good? Ridley doesn't reply. He just sits down in front of the brass bowl and the blue skull, crossing his legs as he shifts around to get comfortable. Everyone waits a beat, then sits down too, forming a circle around the bowl and skull. Ridley picks up the knife, places his hand over the brass bowl, and slices his palm before any of the others even know what he's doing.

Donna cries out. Matt looks stunned. Tom grins and claps. Tim is watching his brother with worry. Drops of blood mix with the water in the bowl. Without Ridley touching any of it, the bloody water begins to swirl on its own. A spiral of red is created. Then it becomes a starburst, a snowflake, and finally a murky cloud.

Oh, denizen of the netherworld. I command that you come forth. We are here to test your strength and prove that the human intellect is superior. A little much, don't you think? It's never enough. Not for him. Everyone jumps and looks at the teenager. He's almost panting,

and his chest is heaving up and down, up and down. Tim pats his brother on the shoulder, and the twin calms down. Ridley slides the knife behind him, away from Tom, then looks directly into the bull. He frowns and clears his threat. Okay, um, maybe we should just go find a movie on TV.

Or a true crime doc, that counts for Halloween. Ridley shakes his head. Quiet. He straightens his back and repeats the same words he'd said before. Nothing happens. He repeats them again, getting agitated. Still nothing happens. Donna places a hand on his shoulder, but he shakes it off.

I don't understand. I set everything up right. I did. I know it. He reaches out and touches the water, swirling it with his fingertip. It makes snow. His head rocks back on his neck,

and his mouth opens wide as he stares straight up at the ceiling. His hand knocks the brass bowl over, spilling the bloody water all over the rug. Matt and Bree stand up and get back, while Tom scoots away on his butt. Donna gets on her knees and stares right into Ridley's eyes, while Tom just rocks back and forth, clapping and laughing.

Rids? Ridley gasps, and his head lunges forward. He bumps foreheads with Donna, causing the girl to fall back as she rubs the lump that is already forming. Then Ridley looks around, making sure to lock eyes with each teenager. He smiles, but there's something wrong with his mouth. When he licks his lips with a black tongue, everyone gasps and gets as far away from Ridley as possible,

except for Tom. who crawls forward and starts sniffing Ridley. Oh, he will not be pleased. This one is taken Ridley. The game is shifted. New pieces in place. Bro, what are you jabbering about? Tom swivels his head on his neck and looks at his twin.

His eyes are wet. We all pay for our sins. I pushed him, Tim, at the lake. Danny didn't slip. I pushed our cousin, and I watched him go under, and I never told anyone. What? Tom, what are you?

Tom's hand closes around the knife. Tim lunges for his brother. At the same instant, every candle in the room gutters out, plunging the sanctum into total darkness. There is a scuffle, a wet gasp, then screaming, a lot of screaming all at once. The candles sputter back to life. Tom is on his back on the rug. Tim is clutching the knife he wrestled away too late, and there is blood.

So much blood. Call 911! Matt drops beside Tom and presses both hands hard against the wound. No, they won't get here in time. We need to get them to a hospital now. Brie just stands there, screaming. Her hands pressed to the sides of her head. Donna hurries to her friend and tries to calm her down. Ridley stands up, takes a deep breath, and laughs in a voice that is much deeper than usual. Oh, how delicious. The puppies decided to have some fun and, uh, uh, uh, uh, it didn't work out as they thought.

Boo-hoo. Donna turns away from Brie and glares at Ridley. Shut up, Rids! This is serious! Oh, I know, little cupcake. It's more serious than any of you can possibly fathom. Your Ridley has made a big mistake. Forget him. We have to help Tom. Now! Yes, forget me. Little old me. I can just wait here. Maybe have a look around. Ridley takes a long, deep sniff.

Oh, I smell all sorts of deadly fun stuff in this house. Donna! Donna looks at her panicked friends. one of whom is bleeding out fast, then at her boyfriend, who she suspects is definitely not in charge of his own body or mind anymore. Go, I'll deal with this. Ridley laughs again. Matt just shakes his head and helps Tim carry Tom out of the room.

Bree staggers behind them, tears flowing freely as she sobs and sobs and sobs. She looks at Donna just before passing through the tapestry. You're really staying? Donna nods. Brie frowns, then hurries out. Her sobs doubled, which leaves Donna alone with a very not-right Ridley. So, what's the plan, little cupcake? Looks like I have to figure out how to get rid of you.

Before she can blink, Ridley is right in front of her, close enough that she can smell something rotten on his breath. His fingers close around her wrist, cold and hard as iron. Careful, cupcake, I don't need this body in one piece or yours. Then he lets go and steps back, grinning, all jokes again. He guffaws and taps his head. Oh, bless your heart. Sweetie, your only shot of getting rid of me is currently screaming inside this skull,

with no chance of taking back control. He messed with the wrong demon and got the horns. It happens. And come midnight, I get to keep him. Forever them's the rules. Out in the hallway, the grandfather clock ticks. Loud, louder than it should be. Skull.

Donna looks down at the blue crystal one lying on its side on the rug. It sits in a pool of bloody water. Ridley glances down too and growls. Do not touch that. Donna grabs the skull up in both hands, and is no longer in the hidden room with all the candles and her demon-possessed boyfriend. She is standing in a black void,

although she can see and hear. It's confusing and contradictory. Then she feels something shift, a presence, a massive presence that seems to take up the entire void. Hello? Hello. You are an interesting.

visiting visitor. Um, thanks. Why have you come, child? Donna takes a deep breath, and before she can stop herself, she lays it all out there. Ridley with the safe, Tom grabbing the skull, the hidden room, Tom and the knife, Ridley and the bloody brass bowl, the thing that is now inside Ridley. She feels the entity listening, absorbing her words, but not just her words. The thing seems to absorb Donna's very essence, rolling in a little.

it over its non-existent tongue, savoring her soul, tasting its makeup. Yes, very interesting. And what would you like me to do? Ridley said that by grabbing the skull, you can gain the ability to use logic and reason to debate the demon. He said that by winning the debate, you either defeat the demon or control it. I'm not sure which. And you children decided to do this on a lark? As a way to celebrate All Hallows Eve? Could you not just eat your candy and watch scary movies like normal teenagers do? We tried. The driving was sold out. The entity booms out a hearty laugh. Normally, I would take a piece of your mind, making you exceptionally dumber. But where that piece goes,

I place a kernel of genius. This would allow you the ability to debate a demon. Would you like that? Donna thinks for a moment, but the moment stretches, and she suddenly feels like she's been thinking about it for days, maybe weeks. She shudders and looks down at the blue skull in her hands. If it will mean I can defeat the demon and save Ridley, then yes. The entity chuckles, and Donna can feel it in her bones. No, you will not be granted an intellect able to defeat a demon in debate. Nothing can do that, for they lie and cheat.

You would be, how does it go? Taking a knife to a gunfight, you'd be sharp, but he'd shoot you down before you even got started. Donna feels her chest hitch, and she sits down before her legs buckle and give out under her. Lowering her head, she sucks back the tears, trying to overwhelm her. Also, I would drive the person who visits me mad. Some of them carry a seed of evil, some violent or cruel act that they have committed. The shame in them festers and then bursts once they they are free of this place, but never free of me. My voice lives in them, grows in them, whispering and reminding them of their sins, until, well, they simply cannot take it anymore.

Donna thinks of Tom, of the lake, of the knife. I'll do whatever it takes to say, Ridley, but it sounds like you can't help me anyway. Oh, I never said that I cannot help you, child. I said that you cannot defeat a demon with debate. Donna looks up, although she has no idea what she's looking up at. It's just a void with a voice. There's nowhere to look, nothing to look at. How long have I been here? I'm so tired.

Can you please just tell me what to do so I can go back and save Ridley? I cannot tell you what to do without taking a piece of you, child. But I do not want to dissect your mind. You are a decent human as humans go. Come, volunteer. At an animal shelter, you help the elderly at your church. You are the type of person who finds money and turns it in instead of keeping it. The sneaking out in the white lies I will look past, such is the folly of youth.

But there is nothing evil about that. Donna stands up, or thinks she does. Voids are confusing. She holds out the blue skull. What do I do? Does this help? No. I would advise that you never touch the skull again.

I am being generous now, but I may not be so generous later. The entity sighs, and Donna feels as if she's been washed and scrubbed clean by a sandstorm. Return and look for the light. Something in that house hungers for what has taken your boyfriend. You have already met it. Be quick, child. If the clock strikes midnight before you find it, all will be lost. Donna shakes her head.

The light? What is that even? She blinks as she finds herself back in the hidden room. The blue skull clutched almost painfully in her grip. She opens her hands and lets it fall. It thuds under the rug and rolls a few feet away. Then she turns and sees him. Ridley, who is not her Ridley, leaning against the doorframe. He licks his lips with that black tongue and looks her up and down.

Where'd you go? He sniffes loudly. Huh, your soul stinks a void. better you than me. So, when does the madness kick in? Donna ignores the possessed Ridley, and shoves past him, brushing out of the hidden room and into the hallway. The grandfather clock reads quarter to midnight, 15 minutes.

She mutters to herself over and over about finding the light. Not Ridley follows right on her heels, keeping a running dialogue going about the many artifacts displayed on the walls. Okay, that one should not be outside of an iron cage. What are they thinking? And that one? Are you kidding me? Is this guy trying to start an apocalypse?

Not Ridley just keeps running his mouth constantly, commenting on this, mocking that. Donna tries to block it out as she runs down the hallway and into Ridley's dad's office. She hurries to the open safe and looks inside, hoping she'll find something to get rid of the damn demon. But other than some stacks of cash, several file folders and a pistol that looks like it's from the Civil War, there's nothing in there. Cash and file folders won't help. A pistol might, but the entity didn't mention a pistol. It's said to find the light. Yes, it is a firearm, and fire is light.

But Donna's gut tells her that's not what the entity meant. Oh, dollar-dollar bills, y'all. Nice. Not Ridley shoves Donna out of the way and begins stuffing the bundles of cash into his pockets. Frustrated, Donna searches the rest of the office, but comes up with nothing. When she steps back into the hall, the clock reads 10 to midnight. Hey, little cupcake, why don't you just embrace the new me? I can teach you things that would blow your mind. I mean, the two of us, we have chemistry.

Can you feel it? I feel it. Just hang with me for a couple of weeks, and you'll be a new woman. Donna shuts him out. Her focus is on every artifact that lines the walls. She moves to a mask that is under a wall sconce. Maybe the light is supposed to be on the thing, not part of the thing. But the mask has more shadow on it than light.

She shakes her head and slams bald fists into her thighs, angry at herself for not giving up a piece of her mind so she could reason this puzzle through. You want to order pizza? We can eat some slices while I explain my plan for world domination. Cool? Hey, little cupcake, that good with you? Down the hall, the clock ticks on.

Seven minutes. Donna is filled with rage and self-loathing. She's an A-plus student. She is going to a top-tier college next year. She knows she's smart enough to work it out. She rests her palms on the side table and leans forward, placing her forehead against the wall as she closes her eyes and thinks, thinks, thinks. Something in this house hungers for what took Ridley.

You have already met it. Met it. She's met a lot of strange things tonight. The faces in the mirror, the tapestry, the... Her eyes snap open. The lamp, the way it wriggled in her hands, like it was tasting her, the bulb flickering, the way it went still, disappointed when it found nothing worth eating. The way it had crept down the table toward the office, like it already knew what was coming.

Light, lamp, lamps are light. The lamp is hungry. Donna grins, then shouts. Yeah, pizza sounds great. Not really, folks his head out of the office. Really? Cool. But what's the catch? No catch, but I need you to help. remove this side table. There's a space back there that has even more cash, and I'm pretty sure there are some firearms, too. Guns? Awesome. You can never have too many guns, I always say. Not Ridley skips down the hallway to the side table. He grabs one end and nods. Ready? Donna grabs the other end and nods back. Behind her, the grandfather clock whirrs, gathering itself to chime. Yeah, but can you take that lamp off first? I think it's valuable, and I don't want to

break it. Not Ridley gives her a thumbs up and grabs the lamp. Instantly, his entire body goes completely rigid, except for his eyes, which widened than narrow. Oh, you're a sneaky bitch of a cupcake, aren't you? Then Ridley collapses, as the lamp swells to twice its size, burns bright hot, then makes a fizzling noise and settles back to its normal size. Somehow, the lamp manages to land right back on the side table. Lying in a heap, Ridley moans. Donna runs to him, crouching as she pushes damp hair off his forehead.

She whispers his name over and over, and when that doesn't work, she pats his cheek and then shouts his name. Ridley sits up, his eyes wide, a little trickle of blood running out of one nostril. Donna takes the sleeve of her shirt and wipes the blood away. He seems not to know where he is. Then he looks at Donna and tries to smile. It comes off as a pained grimace. Then he throws his arms around her and buries his face in her neck.

But Donna pushes him back quickly. Show me your tongue. Ridley sticks his tongue out, pink, not black. Donna throws her arms around him. Remind me not to try that again. The grandfather clock begins to strike midnight. Donna laughs and hugs them as tight as she can. The front door opens, and in walks a very stern-looking man, a phone in his hand.

Matt called me from the hospital. He looks at the two of them on the floor, at the blood on Donna's sleeve, at the lamp glowing a soft, contented orange. He says nothing. He walks into the hidden room and comes out with the blue crystal skull, hooked under one arm, carried like a football. He stops in front of Donna. You held it.

It isn't a question, Donna nods. With both hands? It said it wouldn't take anything from me. It said I was decent. Ridley's dad looks at her for a long moment. It always says something like that. He turns to his son. Your friend is in surgery.

We'll talk in the morning, all of us. The man steps into the office. and closes the door behind him. Ridley and Donna help each other up. On the side table, the lamp dips its shade, almost like a bow. They walk down the hallway toward the living room. As they pass the mirror, Donna keeps her eyes straight ahead.

She doesn't want to look, but she does. She steps to the side. The tortured faces are there, screaming, pressed against the glass, and among them is a new one, young, mouth stretched wide, a pirate's eye bat. over his right eye. SCP-183 is a blue-tinted piece of quartz in the shape of a deformed human skull.

It weighs 15 kilograms and measures 20 centimeters high, 30 centimeters long, and 12 centimeters wide. The skull shows no anomalous properties unless a single person holds it in both hands. When held with both hands, SCP-1083 causes a sudden, massive spike in the subject's neural activity. lasting one to three seconds, as confirmed by EEG analysis. Afterward, in most cases, 87% non-D-class subjects undergo massive personality changes. Affected subjects typically show a drop in IQ of between redacted and redacted points, making them unfit for further employment with the foundation.

Despite this, they show greater reasoning skills and use of logic, though their actual knowledge and memories are diminished. However, all D-Class and other Foundation personnel who have committed violent acts against other human beings suffer total psychological breakdowns, leading to attempts at self-harm and suicide. Subject D-3273 was demoted to D-Class for a violation of Foundation Protocol, not for a violent act.

That subject experienced the same effect as the non-D-class personnel, suggesting that a history of nonviolence is the deciding factor. Most subjects exposed to SCP-1083 refused to discuss their experience with the object. Between Date Redacted and Date Redacted, the only references to the experience came from D-Class personnel shortly before their deaths. Several were recorded exclaiming, He's right, he's right, I deserve it, he's right, for some variation of it. Neither forced nor chemical interrogation has revealed who he is, or what changes he makes to the personalities of those affected.

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