… come closer, take a seat. This isn't something very common here, you know? Many of those who work in the Foundation try to keep their relationships to a minimum. Accidents, attacks, a failure in containment. One day they are here, and the next they disappear… if they are lucky. But some SCPs learned that unity is strength. They stay together, work as a team, coordinate their efforts… they don't hesitate. The worst part? We are their favorite dish. A delicacy from skin to bone. Now, let's talk about SCP-906…
Containment
The Foundation doesn't know where it comes from, but it didn't take long to understand what it needed for containment. The assigned area for SCP-906 is three meters on each side, with titanium walls 12 centimeters thick, and an additional capsule that encloses everything, made of acid-resistant glass. The temperature must be kept below 5 degrees Celsius to reduce its activity. Even its feeding cycle is controlled: 80 kilograms of raw meat every 42 hours. No agent or scientist can enter. Only Class D personnel, watched by cameras. Some never came out.
Description
At first glance, SCP-906 is… a mass. Large, twisted, dark brown. But in reality, it's much more than that. The brains here like to use the word supercolony. The mass is made of worms, invertebrates that interact with each other. When it's hunting or needs to cover longer distances, it moves in its formless mass state. But for some reason no one fully understands… SCP-906 prefers to imitate the human body and walk like us.
SCP-906 represents one of the worst combinations for the Foundation: It is a predator by nature, very aggressive, and also… corrosive. It can create a viscous, semi-transparent substance, on par with hydrofluoric acid, with the only difference that it doesn't affect certain glasses, and titanium exhibits some resistance.
As for the rest… bones, teeth, nails, hair, muscles and skin, clothing, jewelry, the list goes on. Once SCP-906 finds a prey, it pursues it like a carpet and wraps it completely. No one has ever escaped from its interior, and believe me, the Foundation tried several times. Obstacles are useless: SCP-906 knows how to use pipes and ventilation ducts to move. In less than an hour, SCP-906 can turn a man's body into liquid, which it ends up consuming. The first moments of digestion… are not easily forgotten.
I would love to say that the human body is the only thing SCP-906 imitates… but that's not the case. When it's in its bipedal form, it has been discovered emitting animal noises, or repeating words like a parrot. Everything seems to indicate that it uses this ability to attract more food, however, there is something more. On occasions, SCP-906 mocks its victims before attacking them. The noise it makes is… like laughter.
Can we kill it? Yes... with flamethrowers and liquid nitrogen. The problem is that the individuals that make up SCP-906 reproduce quickly when damaged. If containment fails, we must be relentless and destroy every last worm without exception. There is no other alternative. The Foundation ran several tests, and the results were conclusive: We are their favorites, and it will reduce us to soup as soon as it gets the chance.
