… I know what you’re doing. Do you think I haven’t been paying attention? You watch the world desperate over that bug, and you spend your time exploring the archives. Searching, comparing. If the Foundation keeps worse things, why doesn’t it act? That complaint carries its own answer. It’s true we store horrible viruses and bacteria, but it’s also true they demand all our attention. If just one of those little monsters gets out… nothing will remain. I understand your doubts… and you’d better come with me. I think you need another example.
A ball of fire falling on New Mexico. Does that sound familiar? Everyone thinks of Roswell and gray little men, but they never get the full details... and I doubt they ever will. Did you know the famous incident happened closer to Corona than to Roswell? Even the location is wrong! But we didn’t go there for tourism or conspiracy theories. As a matter of fact, we weren’t even there at the start. The initial containment was handled by the CDC, and once patient zero entered the most advanced phase of the infection... they called us.
The Meteorite and Its Passenger
The meteorite is... old. Very old. Rubidium-strontium dating put it at 2.5 billion years, and it likely isn’t from our neighborhood. But the real problem is its passenger... SCP-1121. A “amoeboid protozoan” according to the lab brains, which reacts only when it comes into contact with Staphylococcus epidermidis, a normal bacterium we carry on our skin and that usually leaves us alone. Once it does, SCP-1121 rushes to mutate all the bacteria before dying, turning them into SCP-1121-1. Its infection rate is 100 percent, and there is no way to reverse it. Every antibiotic we have has failed.
The Phases of Infection
The first phase of infection begins between two and five hours after SCP-1121 enters. The signs are small white lesions on the skin that could be misdiagnosed without further testing.
The second phase appears at 24 hours. The surface lesions disappear, but that only means the infection has moved to the deeper layers of the skin. SCP-1121-1 consumes all subcutaneous tissue within reach, and the only thing it leaves behind is a strange viscous substance. The process causes the victim considerable pain, their skin turns pale, and they get the sensation of having lost weight.
The most chilling part comes with the final phase. Everyone infected by SCP-1121-1 begins to tear off their own skin as if it were old and disposable. They don’t seem to feel pain, and it isn’t conscious, but they will use anything nearby to make it easier. Victims quickly become violent toward the uninfected, and their hostility grows with every piece of skin they rip away. All victims must be eliminated without exception, but that isn’t enough. SCP-1121-1 can remain active for years, even in small samples. Its only destination is the incinerator.
Foundation Experiments
As you can imagine, the Foundation conducted some tests using several D-class subjects. The first one spent his time insulting the doctors while tearing strips of skin from his legs. For the second experiment they used a dozen subjects. Some conversed with each other while leaving pieces of skin and flesh behind. The dialogue was erratic, but they never attacked each other, and the substance produced by SCP-1121-1… moved.
A laboratory assistant compared them to an ant nest when you kill the queen, all confused and lost. But after the last experiment, someone proposed the hypothesis that SCP-1121 is a kind of “terraforming process” aimed at converting the local population into... something different. There’s also a chance we aren’t its original target. What? You think we were the first? You still have a lot to learn...
