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Chapter 54 - SCP-055 - [unknown]

SCP-055 - [unknown]

Object Class: Keter

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In a secure research chamber deep within Site-19, Dr. Reynolds and her team prepare for a routine examination of SCP-055. The containment room is sealed tightly, with no windows, and the walls are lined with Faraday shielding. The team has only partial knowledge of the object's nature—only that it is an "anti-meme" that defies understanding.

Dr. Reynolds: (checking her tablet) Alright, team, as always, remember—no eye contact, no physical touch, and no extended exposure. We're here to observe, not to interact.

Researcher Malik: (nervously adjusting his suit) You think it's really impossible to remember what it looks like? I mean, it's just a thing, right?

Dr. Reynolds: (firmly) That's the thing—nobody can remember what it is. Whatever it is, it actively erases itself from our minds. That's why we keep notes, photos, recordings—things it can't wipe from existence.

She gestures toward the sealed chamber. The room hums softly. The lights flicker briefly.

Dr. Reynolds: (calmly) Initiate the observation sequence. We'll observe for thirty minutes, then review the footage.

The team activates the cameras and begins monitoring. Suddenly, the monitors go dark for a moment. When they come back on, the image is fuzzy, then clears.

Researcher Malik: (frowning) Uh… did you see that? The screen flickered.

Dr. Reynolds: (leaning closer) Probably just a glitch. Keep watching.

As they observe, a faint, strange shimmer appears in the corner of the monitor. A shadow seems to flicker in and out of view, but always outside the frame.

Researcher Malik: (nervously) Did you see that? It's… like a shadow, but it's not.

Dr. Reynolds: (nervously) Don't look at it directly. Remember, no eye contact.

Suddenly, the room's lights flicker more violently. The team members feel a strange dizziness. Malik shakes his head, trying to clear it.

Researcher Malik: (clutching his head) I… I don't remember… what was I supposed to remember?

Dr. Reynolds: (alarmed) Malik? Are you okay? What's happening?

Malik's eyes widen, and he begins to tremble.

Malik: (panicked) I… I can't… I don't know what we're looking at. I… I can't remember what it is. It's like… like it's slipping away.

Dr. Reynolds: (voice urgent) Malik! Stay with me. Don't forget—don't look directly at it. We need to reset the system.

The monitors flicker again, and the shadow vanishes. Malik collapses into a chair, clutching his head.

Dr. Reynolds: (to herself, trembling) It's doing something to us… it's erasing what we know.

She quickly types commands into her console, trying to re-establish control. The room stabilizes, but Malik remains visibly distressed, eyes unfocused.

Researcher Malik: (weakly) I… I remember… something. It's… not a thing. It's… the absence of everything.

Dr. Reynolds: (softly) Yes… that's it. We're dealing with something that's not just invisible or intangible. It's a void. It's what we forget, what we can't remember. That's why it's dangerous.

The shadow reappears briefly on the monitors, flickering like a dying flame.

Dr. Reynolds: (determined) We need someone who can remember. Someone who isn't affected.

She turns to the team.

Dr. Reynolds: We need to find someone—anyone—who can hold on to the knowledge of SCP-055. Because if we forget what it is, it'll take more than our memories. It'll take our minds.

Outside the chamber, the shadow wavers, silent and unseen, waiting for the next victim to forget.

End.

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