Connection: (Connected to SCP-013)
Day 3.
I've been assigned as primary handler for SCP-013. Or as she insists I call her: "The Golden Star of the Track." (Yes, she made me write that in quotation marks.)
Containment isn't the issue. She doesn't try to escape. She wants to stay — as long as we give her a track to run on and an audience to watch. The real problem is everything else.
She doesn't walk anywhere. She gallops down corridors, skidding around corners, nearly bowling over staff with her ridiculous laugh. "Make way! Champion coming through!" She says it every time. Every. Time.
Day 6.
Today she decided my clipboard was a "trophy." She sprinted three laps around the paddock holding it above her head while I shouted myself hoarse. When she finally gave it back, it had her autograph on every page.
I don't know if I should file this as a contamination incident or a morale hazard.
Day 9.
Observation: SCP-013 has no sense of dignity. She tripped over her own feet during a timed run, rolled half the length of the track, stood up, threw her arms in the air, and screamed: "Ten out of ten! Best fall of the year!"
The staff laughed. Against my better judgment, so did I.
Day 14.
She's learning names. Mine, the other handlers, even some of the security guards. She greets everyone loudly, like we're her teammates. One of the guards whispered to me: "Feels like she's building a fan club."
I can't tell if that's harmless or dangerous.
Day 20.
Test scheduled: probability manipulation. The researchers wanted to measure how her presence affects outcomes. She turned it into a circus. Rolled dice, flipped coins, even challenged me to rock-paper-scissors. She lost on purpose, then declared herself the "undefeated champion of losing."
Everyone in the room was laughing so hard the data was useless. I've never seen a senior researcher cry from laughter before.
Day 27.
Something strange today. She was quiet. Just stood by the track, staring into the distance. I asked what was wrong.
She said: "Races end, you know. Crowds go home. Laughter fades. What if I run, and no one remembers?"
I didn't have an answer.
Day 28.
She's back to her antics. Hid in the supply closet, jumped out yelling "Surprise victory!" nearly gave me a heart attack. But I can't shake what she said yesterday.
SCP-013 pretends to be a fool. Maybe she even believes it. But sometimes, I wonder: what happens when the Golden Star decides to run for something more than laughs?
Recovered from Handler Journal, Site-22. Filed under SCP-013 Incident Archive.