 |
|
| SCP-C872 |
|---|
Item #: SCP-C872
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-C872 can be kept in any anomaly-grade containment locker. Currently, it is held in Site-175's Low-Value Item Storage. Testing may take place at Site-175's indoor vehicle testing facility; SCP-C872 should be connected to an external power supply during prolonged tests.
Please be mindful of Foundation resources when planning tests with C872. Cars are unwieldly, require extra supervision, and are expensive to repair. Unless you're actually testing an effect specific to motor vehicles, a skateboard should do just fine.- Dr. Fries
Description: SCP-C872 is a green (532nm) handheld laser pointer of generic design, lacking any identifying marks. Apart from being several times more powerful than identically constructed laser pointers, it has no physical abnormalities.
When SCP-C872 is used to produce a bright spot of light on a surface, any vehicle with unbroken line of sight to that spot will activate and attempt to reach its location. This has been noted to affect aerial, terrestrial, and aquatic vehicles, as well as non-powered vehicles such as bicycles. Powered vehicles are still affected even if they lack the necessary fuel or power supply for movement. SCP-C872's effect on spacecraft, if any, has not been established.
Vehicles affected by SCP-C872 will operate of their own accord, navigating around or over obstacles as necessary and ignoring all input from their operators. When a vehicle reaches SCP-C872's light spot, it will repeatedly assault the spot, generally by low-intensity ramming or repeatedly rolling over the spot. This will continue as long as the spot remains visible and accessible.
If SCP-C872 is deactivated or pointed somewhere outside the vehicle's line of sight, the vehicle will search the nearby area for 15-45 minutes before deactivating and resuming normal functionality. If SCP-C872's light spot is visible but out of reach, the vehicle will remain nearby, occasionally making noises (revving, honking, screeching, etc.) if able. Vehicles will exhibit erratic behavior — spinning in circles, flipping themselves over, etc. — when SCP-C872 is shone directly onto them for prolonged periods of time.
Addendum: Recovery
SCP-C872 was found on 2021-03-06 in an abandoned storehouse on the outskirts of St. Augustine, Florida. Several hundred other anomalous objects were also located on the premises, alongside materials indicating that they had been constructed on-site by a single individual. All information on the premises pertaining to the proprietor's identity had been obliterated or altered; additionally, damage to the structure's exterior suggests that an (ineffectual) attempt was made to burn the structure down.
Numerous pieces of correspondence between the proprietor and other individuals were found on the premises; personnel with sufficient clearance may access the full archive upon request. One such letter, which refers to SCP-C872, is reprinted here:
I know these inventions disgust you now — I think you called them "soulless" — but please bear with me while I talk about the 'vehicular laser pointer'. Do you remember the time I said it was my favorite creation of yours? It was a more-than-worthy entry into the world we were creating — a simple premise, hilarious at first glance but deadly upon further contemplation.
I became so enamored with this toy that I sought to master the techniques you used to create it. I did so, and now I often bring the same ethos to my own creations. I've long since outgrown trying to emulate the pointer, but it remains a totem of the connections we've shared, however they waxed and waned over the years.
Your creations always had a soul — your soul. Your self, your life, your experiences, and your desire to give back to the world: these turned your unassuming mechanical husks into conduits through which we could connect to one another and find the inspiration to put our own souls out there.
That all changed when you decided that none of this was yours. By so violently removing yourself from the picture — and demanding that we follow suit — you've discarded the relationships you forged, the people you inspired, the changes you made. When you blow out the last candle, all that remains are murky alien shapes, looming in the darkness. They, much like you, have become truly unrecognizable.
I'll leave your pointer where I found it. Once I'm done writing this, I will have no more business with it or you. If you ever get everything figured out, I hope you can put it to good use somewhere very, very far away from here.
Signed,
An heir in error
