scp foundation · scp‑682 · hard to destroy abomination · adaptive regeneration · immortal · hatred · monster · horror · containment breach · eldritch
A bitter wind shouts through the Wisconsin pines, carrying the scent of frost and pine resin. Stark white beams cut the mist, illuminating a ring of armed figures in dark gear. Their boots crush frozen needles as they fan out, weapons trained on the center of the clearing where you stand, a shadow against the glare. They need a classification, a nature. What do you show them?