SCP-5437 : A Beast Cast From Heaven

Petrograph Analysis

Petrograph-01

An entity resembling LSA-Brasil-01 is engaged in combat with an out-of-frame tentacled entity, of which only four tentacles are painted. Beneath this scene, a tentacle is drawn emerging from the sky as several entities hypothesized to be LSAs are falling to the ground.

Petrograph-02

Several scenes show the entities that fell from the sky being worshiped by prehistorical civilizations. An eel-like entity hovers over a sacrificial altar built in the ocean. An ankylosaurid stands on top of a volcano as human figures surround it. A large group of men construct what is assumed to be SCP-5437 around SCP-5437-1. Five men are seen standing near SCP-5437-1's arms, which touch the tips of their heads.

Petrograph-03

Each entity is depicted in a state of rest. Below this, the human figures that constructed SCP-5437 are shown to be dead, turned onto their backs. The eyes of SCP-5437-1 are closed. A visage of LSA-Brasil-01 covers the remainder of the mural.

Petrograph-04

A logographic calendar system spans the wall, written in a circular fashion. While the system used is indiscernible, several key symbols related to farming, the sun, and numerology indicate that the mural represents a calendar. At the center of the painting is LSA-Brasil-01, standing over a human settlement. At the bottom of the calendar, LSA-Brasil-01 is depicted as deceased. Several figures gather around the carcass of the entity, each holding an item associated with occult rituals, such as a human skull, a ceremonial knife, and a cup of blood.

Petrograph-05

Scenes of man-made structures burning and being destroyed by LSAs frame the mural. In the center, LSA-Brasil-01, larger than before, is now shown engaging in combat with the LSA entities that were depicted as resting. A thunderstorm is painted above the battle. Beneath this, LSA-Brasil-01 is shown tearing a serpentine entity apart with its tentacles and throwing its body into the sun. Several entities who are not pictured as deceased stand around LSA-Brasil-01. In the final sequence, LSA-Brasil-01 sits atop a large settlement, as human figures venerate themselves before the entity.

Interview Log

AUDIO LOG

1998/04/17

After Fifthist motifs were observed during the exploration of SCP-5437 and analysis of its artwork, Site Director Dr. Tobias Ithelo consulted with retired Foundation historian, Researcher Emile Metcalfe. Metcalfe specialized in the study of Fifthism for nearly three decades, following the belief systems discovery in 1969. Metcalfe was put on paid leave following an incident in 1991 wherein he exhibited signs of being neurologically affected by Fifthism. In the years that followed, Metcalfe has been given significant psychological therapy and treatment, being declared fit to work in 1997.

»BEGIN LOG«

Dr. Ithelo enters the room. Metcalfe stands to shake his hand, but quickly retracts himself and sits back down.

It's been awhile, sir.

I've already been briefed. I know where this is going. Toby, I told you I don't want anything to do with this garbage. Not any more.

It… wasn't my call. They wanted an expert on Fifthism, you're the closest thing.

And what makes you so sure this is Fifthist? I've seen the pictures. Five murals, the corpse of a brittle star. It's surface level, it's superficial, it's not Fifthist.

That's why you're being called in. We want to bring you aboard, help us analyze this anomaly, figure out what it really is. You have to admit, you can make aesthetic connections —

And that's exactly why I don't believe this is a Fifthist creation. I'll come along, but your superiors won't get what they're expecting. Some grand Fifthist revelation about the anomalies' ancient origins. Something so counter-intuitive to the very idea of Fifthism it's laughable. I have to wonder if my work on the subject has even been read, if it's the mere sight of a starfish that's calling me in.

Well sir, I've read a bit back in Brussels, that was years ago but it stuck with me. What about Hy-Brasil? You've seen the paintings. That's the crocosquid. Five tentacles, five eyes? Come on.

I was there. That's why I'm really here, aren't I?

You were… there? In 1988?

Before you ask, my… my incident happened later. I'm alright.

(Pause) I'm sorry to hear that sir. I didn't have any idea.

Do you think it's a tragedy? Hy-Brasil.

Come again?

Do you think it's better they had died together, with others?

I'm not sure what you mean, sir.

You wouldn't, Toby. I guess I'm here for a reason. Maybe you'll come to a conclusion in the coming months.

Silence.

You have my assistance. Whatever you need me to do, I can help with. When I saw it… yes. (Pause) There's something here, perhaps.

Thank you, sir. How does research head sound? There's about 25 of us here, give or take. Not a lot to manage, it'd take a workload off me. I mean, we can even set your office up in the foyer, if you'd like.

Whatever accommodation allows me to carry out tasks in the most efficient way is fine.

»END LOG«

Collected Journal Entries of Researcher Metcalfe

1998/04/19

Darnell helped me move the majority of my possessions to the cathedral area. I have a bed, a desk, my archives, and all the proper equipment I'd need. I'm still not entirely sure what my purpose here is. I've toured through half of the structure, taking photographs, notes, and placing markers. "Find a Fifthist angle," I was told. Find, or create? I remind myself of the inexplicable ties this structure has to the souls who perished 10 years prior.

As heaven poured out below, I could not see its eyes or its arms. Despite my life's work, my thoughts weren't on the virus of the mind, or the way it transmutes, or a world above our own. I was faced with the terror of the Aztec, bearing witness to the technology of European conquerors. Of the man who entrenches himself in the world of the anomalous for the first time. Of the neanderthal, seeing beasts larger than he can hunt. I did not think in terms of anomalies and normalities. I did not think at all.

I know it's true th

There's work to be done.

1998/04/21

Eventful day in the catacombs. Eventful night? I've walked all that we've uncovered, even the curious 'hidden' passages and chambers. Most of my time is spent cataloguing, dating, and observing artifacts we unearth. It's quite comforting work, given my former fields. Maite, a clearly green, kind girl, assists me by bringing objects to my office, which I do not leave for hours at a time. Its situation in between the arches of a long hallway makes me feel as if I've lived here my whole life. I'm surprised the request to move it here was even approved. It's possible, given my tendency to absorb myself fully in my tasks, that previous experience was taken into account.

There is little difference between this site, and a regular archaeological dig. Like a jungle film serial or comic, I feel as if I'm living out the fantasies of my youth. Instead of the brave safari leader, I've taken the role of the aged professor. I've even started dressing the part.

1998/04/22

The case of the murals remain. I've put off my duties for the day, as a research head can, to study them. The story they tell is evident. A legion of beasts cast from heaven descend to earth to be worshiped as gods. For whatever reason, they collectively hibernate. Do they become victims of time, or are they awaiting judgement? Upon the arrival of a greater beast, they awaken. A war is waged, and the lesser beasts venerate their new leader, as does humanity itself. I, of course, observe this through the eyes of a historian as I would any religious myth. However, that is a luxury seldom achieved by someone who entrenches themselves in the unknown.

I looked at the corpse. I had been avoiding it until now.

1998/04/24

Happy anniversary, Patricia. I still love you.

1998/04/27

I feel as if I haven't seen another soul in weeks, despite talking to my colleagues daily. Maite has started bringing me food. She's a wonderful cook.

There's something fascinating about the effects of this anomaly. Matter decays at a slower rate. Death is, for a time, prolonged. In retrospect, I'm surprised I was allowed to stay down here. I'm a willing subject, yes, but there's been a recent push for more ethical testing conditions within the Foundation. I think it's still happening.

1998/04/30

How long did that carcass take to die? These entities almost certainly live longer than most life, and given the effects of the structure, I'm left only to speculate.

Is it dead, or simply in the last stages of life? Its final seconds protracted into centuries.

1998/05/03

Toby informed me he's taking leave soon. I'm not sure when. He said tonight, but who knows when "tonight" actually is. I can't remember his reasoning, some sort of conference with his superiors. I'm acting Site Director now. Could you imagine? Director Metcalfe. There's some that would outright join the Coalition if they saw that.

1998/05/05

I haven't slept in days a long time. I'm almost certain it's the lighting. I might move out for a few days, but I realize that would interfere with the minor experiment I have going on with my body.

I'm starting to feel anger when I look at the carcass. Secretly, I wish it was alive. I hope it is. The death that being is capable of causing renders it a threat. I was proud to witness the coalition open a hole in the squid's head. Would we have done the same?

A gaping hole in the starfishes head. It wants to die, but its own temple forbids it.

1998/05/07

Kimberly would have been 13 today.

1998/05/10

I yelled at Maite. I'm not sure what I said to the poor girl, but I'm too ashamed to think about it.

The story on the paintings is solidifying itself more and more in my mind.

In 1978, the Russians found a beast in the arctic. They found its carcass frozen in a tomb. We know nothing about the society that built it. Their sole monument is one of death, a mausoleum for a beast. Did those ancient builders know their work would be forgotten? Why did they construct such beautiful creations, if they would soon die? The summation of their achievements is death.

I lay in the tomb of the undying.

1998/05/13

Patricia asks me what I want for dinner. I tell her I don't want anything out of the ordinary. She laughs, and asks if I know where I am. Kimberly enters, eating a luminescent, purple ice cream. She hugs me, and thanks me for letting her come.

I booked us tickets for a dancing show tonight, held in a large arena. I feel the stubs in my pocket. It's a secret. None of them know I purchased them. Another birthday gift to add to Kimmie's infinite pile.

I feel the warm, Tuathan silk of my couch as I lay my head down for a brief rest.

The island is paradise.

And then they died.

1998/05/15

Ordinary day.

Found a new passage.

1998/05/19

I got up in the middle of the day last night. Started walking the halls. I went into the hidden chamber, and all I saw were corpses. The men who built this temple, the men who didn't. They stretched on for miles.

Did they know they would die? Did they paint their murals with a sense of joy? The death, the destruction, the inevitable. Or did they believe they would be spared?

1998/05/24 28

It's good they died together.

It's good they died when they did. They would have died if they hadn't, because I would have told them to.

Thursday

I used to dream. I haven't in months.

Every stone in this temple was set by a man whose name is forever lost.

I watched myself today. I'm a Foundation man. I'm intelligent enough to know when things are awry. They aren't, even if they seem that way. My body does my job efficiently and effectively. I maintain composure, as I always have. Brief flashes of anger when Maite drops a statue, shattering it into a hundred pieces. Its thousand year death has finally come to a close. The tomb gains another resident today. I tell her it should've been her.

Night

A fifthist concept is hardly fifthist at first glance but slowly transcends reality, a quote from my first lecture actually. It's either that but paraphrased a bit.

This is not a fifthist concept.

I'm fully aware of what's happening here and I know it's the corpse. It has no secondary anomalous effects. I stepped outside today, just for a bit because I know my mind is torn between walking away and facing the inevitable. It was night time, and the sun looks exactly as it did that night in Hy-Brasil when Kimberly and Patricia were trapped under a wall and I saw the blood pooling but could not save them, nor would I want to.

I got put on psychiatric watch because I got too close to a tape I shouldn't have listened to and started repeating its ideas.

I started writing in this journal because I got too close to a beast I shouldn't have and started parroting its philosophy. If I was to die here, I would die an agonizing, slow death. If the people of Hy-Brazil were to die here, they would die extremely fast. Much like the deaths of my dearly dearly beloveds on that night.

That happened. They found a beast in the arctic. There are large scale aggressors. There are monsters. I can make myself leave my bed and see one myself. It's in the foyer. The one on the walls. I'm in the temple on the walls. The squid is on the walls. What's the point of denying it? These things happened. They're all going to happen.

What happened to its corpse? When the beast died, it did not die but move to the next phase of its life, which is resurrection of its body. Anastasis. These things will come to pass. Why deny them?

I prolong my death because we will all meet the same fate eventually. Toby left because he knew this. I can keep it together, but

I'm not doing this anymore.

1998/06/17

Coffee this morning was too hot. Documented several new artifacts. A chamber pot, some sort of religious statue, and a ceremonial dagger. There's evidence pointing towards a mass grave of human remains.

If they killed them in the structure, they must have suffered an incredibly long time. They might have existed for hundreds of years in a dying state before finally expiring, possibly more due to the effects this structure has on human matter on decaying matter in the structure.

I don't want to die. I'm scared to die.

I do not wish to partake in the coming destruction.

Like a fool, like a crazed lunatic, like someone affected by something out of their control, I touched the carcass. I would like to state, to the council, to my superiors, to whoever will eventually compile this into a document. I am in full control of my actions, my body's actions, and my thoughts, and the memories of my loved ones.

There is a sort of judgement coming. I do not wish to see it, and I know that I have a way out.

The best thing about that way out is that it's nothing new. It's always been there in the back of my head like a tiny hole that's been getting bigger and bigger. I know where it goes because I've been there before.

The civilization that built this temple does not exist. They did not exist. Their names do not exist because they never had names in the first place. Where did they go? Why did they leave us? Did they fear it like I do? This is flavor. I am incredibly bored. I don't think anymore, except when I'm on that island again, or in that room.

I don't mind any of this. It's calming compared to what's to come.

Audio Transcript

The following is a transcript of audio recorded by Researcher Metcalfe the night of 1998/06/27. A QFX tape recorder containing the audio was found near SCP-5437-1.

Okay. I'm, uh, I'm doing this to prove a point. Maybe to myself, um (laughs), probably to whoever is going to transcribe this, and make… and make this into a document. I'm standing in front of the corpse, by the way. I'm sorry, the object (laughs). I forget where I am sometimes, and that I have to downplay what this thing actually is.

I'm Researcher Metcalfe, by the way. My writing's a little flowery, so that's… that's why I'm doing it this way. So you don't get the wrong impression and, uh, you can hear that I'm fine. I got called here because I'm an expert in Fifthism. There's some, um, connection between this anomaly and Fifthism, or so they say. I don't know, honestly, and I don't really care. Because you see — (scraping noises) when people think of Fifthism, they have this idea in their head about what it is really and not what it… uh, what it actually is.

They see the number five, or a starfish, and they think you start talking nonsense, but that's not the case. It never really is. I haven't said or wrote any nonsense. Go check. I'm clearly distressed, but I'm making sense. I think that… speaks volumes about the state I'm in.

(distortion)

You see the truth is, Kimberly. When Kim, and… when Patricia died that night, I was lying to myself. Would you believe how many people I talked to today? The number of people I talked to today? (laughs) I won't even say it. It's unbelievable how much things start making sense when you want them to.

I'm looking at this corpse right now. This giant… aquatic creature. It's dead, or at least it has been for a long time. What do you want from me? To start saying that it's talking to me and telling me things? That it's alive? That I'm prophetic? That's bullshit. It all is. The reality of… the reality of the situation is that it's dead. Every soul in this temple is dead. There is no beyond, there is no fifth world for you to transcend to, there's nothing. I'm in a sarcophagus, and the death is… it's palpable. It's on the walls, especially.

(scraping noises) Damn it.

I write like an old man, because I am one. That's why I'm doing this in this way… through this medium. So, in a house of the dead that still, uh, prolongs death, do you know what really scares me? The idea of something coming back. That's why I'm scared of that beast. Because I saw the… the GOC blow it to pieces. I saw its guts splattered across the land, and well, and what used to be the land. I saw all that, and it's still going to come back.

Fifthism is… uh, if I had to put it to words, it's the sight of your little girl being crushed by debris while you stand there unable to move. It's a beast that uses these arbitrary numbers and symbols to taunt you. It knows what it's doing by… by having that number of body parts. It's a tomb filled with dead built to prolong life. It's two forgotten societies doing the exact same thing halfway across the world from each other. It's the power to resurrect the dead. It's the power to awaken the sleeping. It's their blood mixing together and the coloration is clearly distinct in parts but… but you're still able to tell them apart.

It's knowing that there's a reckoning, and running from it with open arms. I fear… I fear for you all. I'm the coward here. I don't want to live in the world you're going to be, so call me weak (laughs).

There are… so many different, um, anomalies that I've seen. How many world-enders have we seen before? There's a lot. It's a little different when you know it's real, and when you know it's about to happen, and there's nothing you can do, and you know that because it already happened once. I'm staring it in the face. If I were you, I'd kill myself too.

I think that's about it.

(distortion)

Chalk it up to the right place, and the right time.

Incident-5437

INCIDENT LOG

1998/06/27

At 00:12 on 1998/06/27, SCP-5437-1 released a large emission of Elan Vital Energy (EVE), killing all personnel stationed at Provisional Site-5437, and destroying the significant portion of SCP-5437. It is assumed this occurred shortly after Researcher Metcalfe created the above recording. Further investigation found Metcalfe's intact, unharmed corpse within the body of SCP-5437-1.

This incident occurred within the same time-frame of Prometheus Lab's revival of LSA-Brasil-01 and subsequent awakening of several LSA-class entities across the world. This event is catalogued as SCP-5391.

As decided by the Hyperion-5 Committee, SCP-5437-1 has been transferred to Foundation Site-40 for research purposes. Precautions related to the petrographs depicted in SCP-5437 are being taken.

Object class reclassification to neutralized is pending.

Critter Profile: Cappi!

War on All Fronts: Anastasis

Reviviscence