SCP-3026

Description

SCP-3026 is an object that closely resembles a human child between the ages of 8 and 10. While SCP-3026 will react to certain stimuli, it is immobile in most situations, and does not appear to require sustenance. It is unclear whether SCP-3026 is alive in the conventional sense.

Whenever a living organism with a brain comes within seven meters of SCP-3026, SCP-3026's limbs will rapidly increase 6-7 meters in length in the direction of the organism. SCP-3026 will attempt to access the target's brain by inflicting blunt force trauma on the skull until it can be pulled apart, after which it will manually remove the brain. After separating the target's brain from its body, SCP-3026's limbs will retract and it will return to a dormant state.

SCP-3026 has also displayed the ability to rapidly extend and retract its limbs in order to avoid physical contact with moving objects, preventing attempts to acquire samples or inflict damage. While SCP-3026 appears incapable of ambulating conventionally, it is capable of relocating by falling prone and pushing against the ground and nearby objects by extending and retracting its limbs, returning itself to an upright position when it ceases movement. SCP-3026 has been observed to reach speeds of 40 kph using this method.

Whenever SCP-3026 is not exposed to at least 3,000 lumens of light, it will emit a high-pitched sound at 110 decibels that induces fear and severe anxiety attacks in 85% of subjects. It will continue to do so while rapidly moving in the direction of the nearest sufficient light source; SCP-3026's method of detecting light is unclear, as is the method by which it produces sound.

Several of SCP-3026's features (a red pantsuit, a pair of sunglasses, and a mullet-like hairstyle) are composed of a wax-like substance designated SCP-3026-1. SCP-3026 will manually remove the left lens of its glasses to discharge SCP-3026-1 from an orifice near its left eye in order to repair damage done to these items. SCP-3026-1 is identical to carnauba wax, except that it will alter in appearance to mimic the color, texture, and transparency of any solid it comes in contact with. When deprived of light for an extended period of time, SCP-3026 will not produce SCP-3026-1.

Recovery: SCP-3026 was located in an otherwise unused warehouse in ███████, Colorado after an anonymous tip made to a hotline operated by a Foundation front company. Several light fixtures were active and pointed towards it at time of recovery. Ownership records for the warehouse indicate that it was leased by a front company associated with "Are We Cool Yet?". A document was attached to the front door of the warehouse; it has been reproduced here.

First, some advice. The thing inside is not a human, and I don't know what it is (besides disturbing). Keep bright light on it at all times. Don't get too close or it will literally rip your brain out.

Second, I want to stress that we had nothing to do with this. I was running a show yesterday at a place downtown and I found this as one of the exhibits. It even came with this little plaque:

At the Perceptice
by The Gardener

Most humans have a graded and complex relationship with being perceived, as it throws them in conflict with the world, but gives them a chance to make their own place within it. This creature is a reflection of those disarrayed tendencies — it requires light, but has ugly clothes of camouflaged wax! Don't get too close, or it will remove your brain (the biggest sensory organ)! No light? It makes a sound of fear! Truly, this is the peak of an art.

A few problems here. First and foremost, this absolutely fails as an art piece, on every level. Every artist who was given the venue's location in advance is capable of much greater things. The plaque, as you can see, is idiotic.

Second, I know The Gardener. He makes plants that cause hallucinations¹. I don't think he could make this if he wanted to.

Third, this show's theme is the recontextualization of internet art and culture.

This killed my assistant and an intern before I got it under control. I don't know who made it or why it was left on my doorstep, but I intend to find out. In the meantime, do whatever you want with it. Just don't blame us, okay?

- The Designer