… you have returned very quickly this time. I wonder how you manage to keep your enthusiasm after everything you've learned. Some in the Foundation don't want to know too much about the… creatures they have to work with. They settle for containment, and that's enough for them, but that doesn't apply to the rest… nor to you. One of the fundamental dangers in these hallways is getting what you wish for, and sometimes the answers are so basic they freeze your blood. In the case of SCP-3199, its drive defies analysis: We are food, for them and for their young.
We can talk about interdimensional beings, alternative realities, anomalous materials, and other things for which we have no adequate words, but at the end of the day, the truth doesn't change: It is the monster in the dark that robs you of sleep, forces you to leave a light on, and churns everything inside you… literally.
Discovery in Ireland
The Foundation found SCP-3199 a couple of years ago in Ireland, near an old residence in the woods. The exact location is classified (typical these days), and they only arrived there thanks to the testimony of the locals: A creature fat, bald and huge, screaming like a banshee. They sent the men of the Omega-19 team for extraction. Some of them were well trained, but very green. And they never left that forest.
A Deadly Predator
The lack of information is as lethal as the SCP itself, and believe me, those guys paid the price. The fat creature is almost 3 meters tall and weighs more than 750 kilograms, at least in its adult form. Two operatives died almost immediately. The Foundation tried to hide the details, but it didn't do a great job this time. Apparently, SCP-3199 ripped the mouth off one of the agents and… vomited into it. The substance it expels turns all bones and internal organs into liquid, the ideal food for its offspring.
The Reproductive Cycle
Oh yes… that. SCP-3199 lays eggs. Giant and almost indestructible. The process is traumatic for the SCP. The egg travels through the entire digestive system, and during the process it doesn't stop screaming. SCP-3199 never strays too far from its eggs. The maximum radius is about 600 meters, and it tries to hunt whatever enters its zone. Its necks turn 340 degrees, and not much escapes them. The hatchlings are as dangerous as the adults. They weigh 360 kilograms, and they are hungry.
The members of Omega-19 were the first to learn about SCP-3199's reproductive cycle. In the middle of transport, the monster laid two more eggs, and they killed six more members. The Foundation still doesn't understand exactly how it can reproduce so quickly… but there are details. The DNA study revealed traces of domestic chicken and chimpanzee. Inside the house they found needles and thread, thirteen chicken carcasses cut, skinned, and bitten, bottles and Tupperware full of a brown substance, and an old A5 notebook that says OPEN WHEN WE ARE PURE on its cover. The text of that notebook is in the original file. Go look for it.
Containment
At least the Foundation knows how to contain them. Killing an SCP-3199 is not too complicated (lead works well), but it has no limit when it comes to laying eggs… except space. The solution for now is to suspend all instances of SCP-3199 in an acrylic resin. Sealed in these giant blocks, they reduce their activity, and with no room for their eggs… they wait. The Foundation had to use extremely drastic methods to destroy the eggs, including baths of liquid nitrogen followed by a hydraulic press. Some geniuses here think they can reproduce the shell material. I just hope they don't end up creating something worse.
I say that because the Foundation can't help itself. Of course, someone decided to subject one of the eggs to high temperatures. The new SCP-3199 took only 9 minutes to emerge from the egg, and another 40 seconds to reach adulthood, laying two more eggs afterward. Now you can see it: A creature that turns the insides of its victims into liquid, devours them, and doesn't stop reproducing. It could annihilate us all. It could be the end.
