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Intake Interview — Video Log
Date: September 25th, 2023
Psychiatrist: Dr. Allyana Weiss
Subject: Emily Curtis, 20, designated SCP-8480-A

<START RECORDING>

Security footage shows the interior of Interrogation Room P-15. The room has been staged to look like a therapist's office. Dr. Weiss sits behind a desk with her clipboard; across from her, SCP-8480-A sits cross-legged, looking at the floor. Their right hand is bandaged, showing partial blood staining — the concentration of which is centered on the tip of SCP-8480-A's index finger.

Dr. Weiss: Hey there Emily. Have you been holding up well? Making any friends?

SCP-8480-A: What?

Dr. Weiss: It's okay, I'm here to be your friend!

SCP-8480-A: Really? I can't believe that you thought that would work on me.

Dr. Weiss pauses, a flash of realization. She blushes. SCP-8480-A rolls their eyes.

Dr. Weiss: Oh god. Sorry. I've been talking to 8-year-olds all morning. Let's start over?

SCP-8480-A snorts.

SCP-8480-A: Sure. So when can I go home?

Dr. Weiss: When you've had a bit of a chance to breathe. Now, I do have to ask you some questions—

SCP-8480-A rolls their eyes and looks out the window in the interview room.

SCP-8480-A: Of course you do. Fine.

Dr. Weiss: Can you tell me your name?

SCP-8480-A: Em.

SCP-8480-A stares at the bloody finger, wrapped in gauze. They bite their lip, tearing at the skin. Shivering, they drop their hand by their side.

SCP-8480-A: Just ask me what you really care about.

Dr. Weiss: What do you think I care about?

SCP-8480-A lays back on the couch and stares at the ceiling.

SCP-8480-A: Why I snapped. Obviously. It's not like the other times, this time was— nevermind.

Dr. Weiss pauses, writing notes.

Dr. Weiss: Why don't we just start with what happened. You were at school, for a test?

SCP-8480-A: An exam.

Dr. Weiss: Right, a test. How were you feeling?

SCP-8480-A: Anxious, I guess? I wasn't ready for the exam. I just… I needed more time.

Dr. Weiss: Tell me more about the test.

SCP-8480-A hesitates. They turn to face Dr. Weiss, chewing the nail on their thumb.

SCP-8480-A: I had to pass thisexam, you know?

Dr. Weiss: You were failing out?

SCP-8480-A: What? No. I'm not a bad student, I just get overwhelmed, and end up missing class. Sure, I mean, I wasn't doing great but, well… it meant that the exam was my only hope. We were all gathered in the test room, desks in perfect lines, perfect students all ready to ace the exam; and then there was me, and I was fucked.

SCP-8480-A realizes they have been biting their nails. They violently throw their hand down, hitting their thigh. They wince.

SCP-8480-A: Sorry. Bad habit.

Dr. Weiss: It's okay. Why were you 'fucked', to use your phrasing?

SCP-8480-A: My head was throbbing, and I couldn't focus.

Dr. Weiss: Just a small headache? That shouldn't have been an issue.

SCP-8480-A: Really? I've been having migraines ever since I started college, and they've only gotten worse and worse. I can almost feel the headaches in my entire body, you know? So when I looked at the exam, and my head started to swim, I panicked. But I had to pass, so I started writing.

Dr. Weiss: Okay. So you were writing the exam, how did the incident occur?

SCP-8480-A: The 'incident'? God, you're worse than my last therapist. I don't know why they wouldn't let me finish writing.

Dr. Weiss: Why did they stop you?

SCP-8480-A returns to biting their left thumbnail.

SCP-8480-A: So I was writing my test, and I couldn't think. Whenever it gets like that, I know I bite my nails. It's just… it helps me cope. It lets me focus. So I'm biting my nails while trying to complete the essay portion; I start to hear people around me muttering, but between the exam and my headache, it was just noise. It'sall just noise, you know?

Dr. Weiss nods, giving SCP-8480-A a slight smile.

SCP-8480-A: I get to the end, and my brain shuts down. It's screaming in pain, yelling at me that I don't know what the fuck I'm doing — I'm pushing through, biting the skin around my nails. The controlled pain helps, and I don't even pay much attention while I chew; I have to finish this essay or my parents would kill me. That's when people started talking around me.

Dr. Weiss: In the exam?

SCP-8480-A: Yeah, I guess. I didn't look up, I couldn't waste any more time. And then this girl behind me screams.

Dr. Weiss: She screamed?

SCP-8480-A: Top of her lungs.

Dr. Weiss: What did you do?

SCP-8480-A: I kept writing. And then the proctors came over, and started yammering, likefuck if it wasn't already hard to keep my thoughts straight. So I told them to just let me finish writing this sentence, and then I could talk, but they demanded it. And then one of them touched me on the shoulder— he fucking grabbed me. So I spun, and pushed him away. I think I yelled at him too, I can't remember.

Dr. Weiss: What do you remember?

SCP-8480-A: Blood. A few flecks, across the top of my exam. I tried to wipe it away and— and then I tasted it. Copper, acrid in my mouth, dripping down my lips. I saw more blood, and that's when I noticed it dripping down my arm. Then I heard the screaming. All of them, screaming for their lives. My head was throbbing, the room was spinning and I couldn't concentrate on the sentence, so I turned around to see— it was the proctor. They were standing there, covered in blood, spray covering their face, staring at me in terror. My blood.

SCP-8480-A shivers.

SCP-8480-A: There was a crack. A sharp jolt of pain that pulled me out of my spiral. That's when I saw my finger. I didn't even feel it. I… I was just biting my nails.

Dr. Weiss: You bit off your fingernail?

SCP-8480-A: I bit off the tip of my finger. I saw the bone.

Dr. Weiss: What happened next?

SCP-8480-A: I tried to finish my exam. But then the blood kept dripping onto my page, and when I was trying to clean it up and save my exam— that's when the paramedics showed up. They dragged me out, and now I'm here.

<END RECORDING>

Session #3 — Video Log
Date: September 28th, 2023
Psychiatrist: Dr. Allyana Weiss
Subject: SCP-8480-A

<START RECORDING>

SCP-8480-A is in the interrogation room, shaking their leg. Multiple fingers have gauze covering them. Dr. Weiss is sitting in a chair across from SCP-8480-A. The two sit in silence.

SCP-8480-A: Will you just say something, or can I go?

Dr. Weiss: I already told you: you can talk about anything you want, or we can sit in silence for the hour. I don't mind either way.

Silence.

SCP-8480-A: Ugh. I guess we can talk about…this.

SCP-8480-A gestures at themselves.

Dr. Weiss: What if we start easy? Do you remember the first time you bit your nails?

SCP-8480-A: Does anybody?

Dr. Weiss: You'd be surprised by what the mind remembers.

SCP-8480-A: I remember the shame. The embarrassment. The pain. The countless adults telling me what an awful habit it was, the disgusting taste of the sprays that I ignored — my mind won't let me forget any of that.

Dr. Weiss: It sounds like it was present throughout your life, then. Can you recall a time when it felt the worst?

SCP-8480-A: I guess? I… okay, wait, I do remember that I was like, maybe seven or eight. I was in my bedroom, playing by myself, when I heard a loud slam. Like something had just crashed into the side of our house, into my wall, glass breaking — I ran out of my room to see what was happening.

Dr. Weiss: What did you find?

SCP-8480-A looks away.

SCP-8480-A: I… I don't know. I remember blood. My mom. My dad. Not much else. I ran back into my room, slammed the door and locked it behind me; I saw my mom do it all the time. And then they started yelling at each other.

Dr. Weiss: That sounds incredibly difficult to process.

SCP-8480-A: Yeah. I just… I remember crying, and when my dad yelled through my wall to 'Shut up!', and I heard a lamp shatter from the other side, I started to hyperventilate an— and, then, uhh. Sorry.

SCP-8480-A begins to chew on their knuckle, the skin red and raw.

Dr. Weiss: It's okay. You don't have to keep going if you don—

SCP-8480-A: I want to.

Dr. Weiss: Okay.

SCP-8480-A: You know when a kid is crying? Like that kind of disgusting, slobbery, unbound emotions that you don't know how to process yet, and it's just flying everywhere? And I was alone, trying to figure out why I was feeling bad, let alone why my dad yelled at me. I shouldn't have left my room, it was my fault. My head felt like it was filling up with oil, coating everything and just making it feel hopeless. My stomach was in knots— and again, he yelled at me. I screamed for help and then—

SCP-8480-A exhales three times in quick succession. When they open their mouth, their lip is bloodied, the surface of the skin ripped apart. They do not notice, and continue biting on their knuckle. It has also begun to bleed, and bone is partially visible. Dr. Weiss does not intervene.

SCP-8480-A: Sorry, I just… there's a reason I try and forget. I heard my mom scream, trying to stop him, but he didn't listen. I heard the heavy footsteps, the familiar sounds of my nightmares. I heard him try the door handle, shaking the frame, demanding that I unlock it. He was threatening to break it, knock it down, show me how to shut up and listen to my father, saying I was 'lucky' he didn't take my door away.

Dr. Weiss: What did you do?

SCP-8480-A: At first, I didn't know what to do; you know when you just have so many emotions, they need to come out? I started to freak out — I think it was a panic attack, thinking back to it… sorry, I'm… yeah. So my mind is screaming that I'm a failure, my dad is pounding on the door and I know I'm going to get in trouble and I— I bit my tongue. Not intentionally, just by accident. And… it helped. As the pain throbbed on my tongue, I felt the pain in my head go down. Turns out biting my nails, ripping at the edges of my fingers, it all helped. The piercing intensity of the hurt — I used it to focus. I centered myself around my pain, calmed myself through the overwhelming feelings; gives me… it helps me breathe.

SCP-8480-A shakes their head.

SCP-8480-A: I stopped crying after that. I learned what a mistake it was to be myself. I… that was the first time I remember me using pain to stop my… my mind, my anxiety, my everything.

SCP-8480-A cries in silence, face neutral, with tears pouring down. They are struggling to focus; SCP-8480-A pinches the bandaged finger, flinching and regaining control of their breathing.

Dr. Weiss: Are you okay? Do we need to take a break?

SCP-8480-A: I… I don't know.

<END RECORDING>

Session #10 — Video Log
Date: October 8th, 2023
Psychiatrist: Dr. Allyana Weiss
Subject: SCP-8480-A

<START RECORDING>

Dr. Weiss: I hear you causedquite a stir in group today.

SCP-8480-A: Ugh. You heard?

Dr. Weiss: You started a feeding frenzy, you know that?

SCP-8480-A: A what?

Dr. Weiss: I know we've been working through your traumas, and I know that what you did helps your mental pain, but—

SCP-8480-A: But what?

Dr. Weiss: You can't bite your fingers in front of the kids.

Silence.

SCP-8480-A: This is bullshit — I didn't do anything wro—

Dr. Weiss: Emily, that is enough. Listen to me.

SCP-8480-A freezes. Their expression flashes to neutral, as blood begins to trickle out of the corner of their mouth.

Dr. Weiss: You're the oldest one here and all the other kids look up to you, whether you like it or not, so we expect that you—

SCP-8480-A: That I what? That I'm suddenly the magic miracle cure that everybody else needed? And if you can savejust me, just special little me, then you can look like a big hero who saved a girl from biting her nails. You're going to have to force me to stop. I need the relief.

SCP-8480-A grabs their head in pain, opening their mouth. Blood begins to freely flow, a large gouge missing from their bottom lip. They bite on their right thumb, as a crunch can be heard on the recording.

SCP-8480-A: <Sighing in relief, as they chew on a chunk of flesh.> So— sorry. I just…

Dr. Weiss: Emily, do you know what a maladaptive coping mechanism is?

SCP-8480-A: I've heard the other doctors mention it, but they clam up when I ask questions.

Dr. Weiss: Simply put, when anybody feels bad or stressed, we all want that feeling to stop. Whatever you do that helps relieve that pressure is a coping mechanism.

SCP-8480-A: Like biting.

Dr. Weiss: Exactly. However, the biting is what we call a maladaptive coping mechanism. What it means is that you were put in a very hard situation, underwent extreme trauma, and without a model of how to cope, you developed your own methods. Those methods, biting, ripping, chewing — those are temporary.

SCP-8480-A: You… you don't get it. It's everywhere. Every second. Every moment. Every breath, every step, everything that I do in my entire life. I am always in pain. I am always terrified. I feel my fucking skin crawling back up my bones, like it's taunting me to rip it off again. It's wrong, and I… do you know why everybody has every finger bandaged? It's because we can't bear to look at them. We can't live in a world where our nails willalways grow back.

SCP-8480-A tightens their hands into fists, reopening wounds. Blood begins to seep through the gauze.

SCP-8480-A: We feel like fucking monsters. Not because we 'eat our own fingers', not because you have us locked up in boxes, not even because some of the assholes you let work here say it to our faces. We feel like monsters because our body is wrong. We are wrong. And we're just trying to… trying to correct that. Trying to… Sorry. I just… I'm so fucking tired of feeling like this every day.

Dr. Weiss reaches across, offering a tissue to SCP-8480-A. They refuse, wiping their tears with their bloodied hands, leaving streaks of red across their face.

Dr. Weiss: You know the thing about maladaptive coping mechanisms?

SCP-8480-A: Hmm?

Dr. Weiss: The worst part is that they work. You're right, it does give you relief, and that's valid. But look at yourself, you are clearly very emotional just talking about it. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life like this?

SCP-8480-A: Do I… Do I even have a choice?

Dr. Weiss does not respond.

<END RECORDING>

SCP-8480-A Containment Chamber — Security Footage
Date: October 17th, 2023
Time: 21:46:00

Note: SCP-8480-A was the only individual present in the room during the time of recording.

<START RECORDING>

SCP-8480-A stands in their containment room, staring at themselves in a mirror. Their clothes are dirty, stained with blood; their hair hangs in a messy nest behind them. The lights are all off, and they are silent, panting, rhythmically chewing their index finger's knuckle, white bone visible. The bone scratches against their teeth, a constant grinding noise present throughout the video. Their eyes are blood-shot.

SCP-8480-A: I feel like an idiot. Talking to yourself is what crazy people do.

SCP-8480-A tears a chunk of their nail off, but spits it onto the ground.

SCP-8480-A: Fuck. Not again. <Muttering.> Dr. Weiss said that it could be good. You know, talk to myself, have a conversation, maybe a bit of growth? Acceptance?

SCP-8480-A snorts as they chew on their cheek.

SCP-8480-A: When has talking ever fixed anything? When was the last time somethingother than biting worked?

SCP-8480-A stares at their bloody stumps and misshapen fingers. They begin to pace their small chamber, shaking as they do. They slowly bring their hand closer to their mouth.

SCP-8480-A: No. I… I can't change this. I don't want to.

SCP-8480-A bites on their palm, ripping the skin up their thumb.

SCP-8480-A: I know that it's wrong, I know that I could be healthier, and maybe even start working on being better but…

SCP-8480-A chews, as blood leaks from the corner of their mouth.

SCP-8480-A: But it's easy. It's easier to just keep biting.

SCP-8480-A stares at a small pool of blood on the floor. They watch as blood runs down their hand, dripping into the pool.

SCP-8480-A: It's safe. It's familiar. It's always worked, right?

SCP-8480-A returns to slowly gnawing on their knuckle.

SCP-8480-A: It makes me feel better.

SCP-8480-A sneers.

SCP-8480-A: Sure. But so did my bedroom. And the house. Fuck, even Dad used to feel safe.

SCP-8480-A grasps their right wrist with their left hand.

SCP-8480-A: Dad didn't know, he didn't mean it.

SCP-8480-A manages to pull their right hand away from their mouth — sinews stretching and snapping as they do.

SCP-8480-A: You don't know that. You can't know what goes on in the minds of monsters.

SCP-8480-A attempts to bite their nails through their handwraps.

SCP-8480-A: Stop. I don't have to listen to y—

SCP-8480-A tries to hit their hand away. It doesn't work.

SCP-8480-A: You do. You do need to listen to me. You know why? Because you're a fucking coward. You're a goddamn coward, and you're too scared to quit.

Silence. Blood coats SCP-8480-A's mouth and hand now.

SCP-8480-A: I bite because it makes me feel better.

SCP-8480-A wipes their hand across the mirror, leaving a streak of blood.

SCP-8480-A: You bite because it's easy. It's a fucking cop-out and you know it.

SCP-8480-A closes their eyes, struggling, before they return to chewing on their hand, teeth crunching bone.

SCP-8480-A: You think I like this? You think I like hurting every day, feeling like my skin is screaming to be ripped off, begging for the relief of death? You think anybody fucking enjoys what I put myself through, just to be able to focus for a single minute? You know why we don't eat anything but ourselves? We don't want to. We're always full.

SCP-8480-A cries, their tears mixing with the blood on their face.

SCP-8480-A: So? If you don't like it, just stop.

SCP-8480-A continues chewing.

SCP-8480-A: You know this, I can't stop or the pain will—

SCP-8480-A slows down, before ceasing to chew their knuckle. They drop it to their side, hanging limply.

Silence.

SCP-8480-A: Nothing I do will stop it.

SCP-8480-A stares at their hand, seeing the bandages stained dark red.

SCP-8480-A: How can you be sure?

SCP-8480-A stares at the mirror for the next minute in silence. They do not move their hands.

SCP-8480-A: Maybe… Maybe I can't know.

SCP-8480-A smiles.

SCP-8480-A: Exactly. So?

The smile disappears.

SCP-8480-A: It doesn't change the fact that I'm a monster.

SCP-8480-A raises their hand, as if to bite, chewing on the frayed edges of the gauze.

SCP-8480-A: We are not a monster. We are not broken.

SCP-8480-A spits a strand of bloodied gauze onto the mirror.

SCP-8480-A: Are you joking? I'm a monster. I've known this since I was young, you've known it since you were young. We're both a fucking monster, and we can't keep denying it.

SCP-8480-A balls what remains of their fists, blood trickling out.

SCP-8480-A: Aren't you tired of being a monster? Have you considered that, just maybe,we're not a monster? That it's just somebody else's hateful words, other people's insults, a voice in our head that was was forced on us, driven in when they hurt us. A lie.

SCP-8480-A grabs at their chest, bunching their gown in their fist. They wince.

SCP-8480-A: But I feel it in my fucking soul! I know I'm a monster.

SCP-8480-A shakes their head.

SCP-8480-A: What if that's a lie? Would you really deny us that? Deny the chance to grow, to heal, to start moving on? Can you truly deny the fact that we are human, not a monster?

SCP-8480-A freezes.

SCP-8480-A: I'm not denying anythi—

SCP-8480-A sneers.

SCP-8480-A: You deny it every time you take a bite. Each time you swallow an ounce of flesh. Each nail, each bone shard, each bite of us that 'frees us'? That's denial. You are just playing the monster.

SCP-8480-A throws their hands to their sides, palms facing the mirror. The skin is in a state of mid-healing, torn skin covering itself.

SCP-8480-A: So? What the fuck am I supposed to do?

SCP-8480-A shrugs.

SCP-8480-A: What if we didn't bite our fingers?

SCP-8480-A rolls their eyes.

SCP-8480-A: Sure, right. You say that like it won't drive me insane with the pain.

SCP-8480-A glares at the mirror, shaking as they try to calm their breathing. It is unsuccessful.

SCP-8480-A: Will you just shut the fuck up and listen to me for a second?

SCP-8480-A:<Silence.>

SCP-8480-A: Weiss is right. She tells you all the time, we are stronger than we think. Look at our lives. Our family. Our parents. The shit we went through? But we survived. We made it. We—

SCP-8480-A: We're stronger than this.

SCP-8480-A stares at the knuckle bone peeking through their skin.

SCP-8480-A: We have spent years running from this, hiding in every blood drop, delving deeper and deeper into the twisted knots of flesh that grow back, chasing after a dream of 'normalcy.' The people around us, our 'family', the doctors here — they cast us as the monster.

SCP-8480-A begins to hyperventilate.

SCP-8480-A: I can't—

SCP-8480-A: You're right. To them, we will always be a fucking monster. Who else would cause that much suffering, just to stop a little headache?

SCP-8480-A snorts.

SCP-8480-A: Okay, so? What do you suggest we do?

SCP-8480-A turns, looking at their own eyes in the mirror.

SCP-8480-A: We move on. Westart to heal. It's not like we're fixed but… if we own this, if we make it part of us, if we weaponize it? Slowly, but surely — we can start getting better.

SCP-8480-A: You… you think so?

SCP-8480-A: It's not going to change overnight, but… is this working? Is this all we are? We're more than just blood, flesh, bone, the pain — we areEmily. It has always been a part of us. The monster inside, the victim, the thing that they have feared for fucking years. They have always been afraid ofus. So? Fuck them. We live, we survive — inspite of them. We fucking try. Why did we ever listen to them? There is no one way to be fucking normal, normal is a myth. There is no monster, there never was.

SCP-8480-A looks down, and sees the pool of blood they stand in. They shiver.

SCP-8480-A: But they will always see a monster.

SCP-8480-A returns their gaze to the mirror, staring at themselves intensely.

SCP-8480-A: So? Let them see a monster. Who cares if we never change their minds, we know the truth; we are no more monstrous than they are.

<END RECORDING>

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