Hunger. A powerful sensation, isn't it? Let me ask you: Have you ever gone to sleep hungry? Not by choice, but because you had no alternative. People are very... visceral when describing it. A pressure, a hand twisting your insides, the loss of heat in your hands, the weakening body. Now, imagine it as a curse, something that can never be fully sated. Yes, the Foundation has things like that in containment, and if you're here... then you wish to know their hunger.
Discovery
Let's see... ah yes, SCP-323. The Foundation found it in September within the Bittern Lake reserve, in Saskatchewan. A small community (quite isolated, with no official records) had been spreading a false story about a ruthless serial killer to hide the dead. Several residents participated in the conspiracy, but once the Foundation got what it wanted from the interviews, it did nothing more than distribute amnesiacs and leave them alone.
Description
At first glance, SCP-323 takes the form of a deer skull. 55 centimeters long, with very large antlers on both sides. It appears to have been exposed to the elements for years. Marks, cracks, its white surface from the sun... it's all there. The only major piece missing is the jaw, but that's not the most important thing. You see, on the back of the skull there is a hole with quite precise measurements: 25 by 23 by 16 centimeters. There are tool marks inside, meaning someone took the trouble to make it.
Abnormal Behavior
The first problem with SCP-323 is that it can move on its own. Small jumps, vibrations it has attempted to escape more than once. It also responds to visual, tactile, and acoustic stimuli. And for some reason it detests those who speak English and French, attacking them openly. Several researchers here believe SCP-323 possesses a level of sapience, but many doubts remain.
A Dangerous Influence
Even more serious is the fact that SCP-323 exerts a certain... influence over those nearby. The Foundation calculates a radius of 15 meters, and when the data is so precise, well... let's just say there were several experiments. Those exposed to SCP-323 for more than an hour will begin to develop cannibalistic desires and impulses, outbursts of violence, and impaired judgment. At that point, three quarters of those affected will do everything in their power to place their heads in SCP-323's posterior hole, leaving their mouths free.
What do I mean by all this? Slamming their heads against the floor and walls until they deform, lose consciousness, or die from the impacts. If a subject manages to insert their head far enough, the Foundation applies the designation SCP-323-1, and in less than ten minutes it will begin to transform. It's as if it were consuming itself. All body fat, hair, and pigmentation disappear. Its distal phalanges break, new teeth grow, and its limbs turn black, as if devoured by extreme cold and gangrene. At the same time, SCP-323-1 is much stronger and more resistant to pain than a normal human. The Foundation has managed to neutralize its escape attempts... but one day luck might run out.
The Need to Feed
The worst part? SCP-323-1 needs to eat. Devour. The symptoms of starvation appear between 15 and 30 minutes. Its metabolism is chaos, and it will try to eat anyone nearby to sate its appetite. If it doesn't succeed, it responds with a reduction in movement, rationing of the little available food, and... autocannibalism. As if that weren't enough, SCP-323-1 only eats human flesh. Even if it has other abundant options nearby, it prefers us. This is why members of that isolated community kidnapped and killed people: They had to... appease the creature.
The November 2006 Incident
In November 2006, an instance of SCP-323-1 tried to escape its containment. It killed twelve people before agents managed to capture it. Those who followed its progress heard it speak in strange languages. A later analysis determined they were expressions in Ojibwa, Potawatomi, and Cree. Despite the differences, all its expressions go in the same direction: Hunger, food, cold, heat, loneliness.
Containment Procedures
The Foundation's containment procedure requires a concrete cell measuring 17 by 17 by 3 meters. The skull has been placed in the center, covered with a one-cubic-meter armored glass container. The only opening of that container has an electronic lock, and a unidirectional laminate allows viewing what happens inside. All entries have a 45-minute limit, receive armed escort, and no one must speak English or French.
Conclusion
It's the only way. SCP-323 is not going to stop, and the Foundation does not consider it useful to sate its appetite. Most likely it will stay there, waiting for an opportunity to taste flesh again.
