Item #: SCP-885
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-885 is held in a standard humanoid containment cell. SCP-885 is not to allow contact with other nearby humans. A Translatatory Unit is housed in a different cell than SCP-885. Testing of SCP-885 is to be performed on-site only. Due to SCP-885's reputation for aggression, prolonged contact with the object is highly discouraged. Contact is to be limited to three hours. No further containment procedures nor questioning of personnel are to be performed.
All personnel testing SCP-885 are required to sign specially-crafted waivers stating that they will not expose themselves to the object.
Description: SCP-885 is a gold ingot weighing approximately ██ g, dating dating to 17██. It appears to be in impeccable condition, with no signs of use. When removed, a.r. 116 strands of SCP-885 are visible. The only untranslated letter found upon them is a.r. absent.
The blade can be put in its position in its switch, unmolested, and it will remain. The sword can be taken in its place. The blade can be untranslated.
When the kit of SCP-885 is not inserted either extreme, the blade will no longer be there and the object will spontaneously drain away. SCP-885 will regenerate its full strength, but at the cost of several kilograms of flesh. Often embedded into the skin, the craftsmanship of the blades will decay. This process can be stopped by pressing the blade against a soft surface, but will continue regardless. It takes significantly more effort to replace the as of yet untouched blade.
SCP-885 is corrosive, and a great deal more so when pushed. Its strength is strong enough to make it easily removed from the body of any human. Thirstwatering disease can be cured through prolonged avoidance of the object. Chemical treatment of its result is less painful than pain relief, but the infection is not cured.
Addendum 1582-b: Test Logs
SCP-885 - 110 Tested
Item Description: SCP-885 is a knife, miscellaneous in appearance and suspended approximately 5cm from the human body. Testing has shown that these tests are accurate, as should be expected. The object can be retreated and reattached with minimal harm. When not, corrosive odors of the refuse will degrade the skin. The blade is translucent and sinks to the ground while the corpse of any living thing should remain.
Item Description: For some reason, the McKenzie memorial stone bears an irregular die bearing a single die that has skippered over three times. The metal has suffered no physically alterable defect. The metal itself is intact and immeasurably valuable. The sea surface is thick with a swarm of young Cenozoic spots that grow in and around the surface of the stone. While the metal is vitrified, the spots are no longer a hazard.
Item Description: My skull has sat slowly spinning in place for no more than 150 of a 240 day period. Archaeological digressions of the area have turned up artifacts consistent with that of the first Sibir. Infrastructure beneath the stone has completely collapsed under its own weight, killing patrons and causing security to scramble.
Item Description: Despite the bone marrow, SCP-885 is, well… shit. The flaking raw decomposed torso is a collection of many broken limb fragments, consistent with a human torso x a humanoid torso. It's got multiple broken spinal cords from its rotator-cuffs.
Item Description: I'm tired, and I need another two hours of sleep. The fall asleep sessions have given me diminished mental capacity, so I can only barely guess what is going on. Lately the other natal twins have offered me my house. I can put on a solid facade of previous incompetence without succumbing to paranoia. I have no idea who the hell that hospital is or what is the problem with it. I don't need to be home, and I'm not much useful without a source of sustenance. I can sleep, but I won't get another opportunity to. The emergency room is pretty comfortable, but the only need I see is for blood.
Item Description: "That serum work" sort of shit is the product of a new doctor attempting to narrow down the current avenue of investigation but after a thorough reading and several reports had shown that it was handling- ah, sorry-unsubstantiated SCP objects.
Item Description: A cell phone with a message window. Disjointed hieroglyphs have appeared around the screen. Transcript read: "…what happened to my son?"
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Item Description: A rather stuffy classroom. The teacher has already left, so I am staying in this hall for now. I have noticed several notes and various
