[ SCP-999, "The Tickle Monster" ]
The number at the top of this file marks the object being described. As Vale saw the number and the corresponding name, he froze unconsciously for a moment.
"The Tickle Monster? Damn, that's so weird!" Vale muttered, a mix of surprise and curiosity in his voice.
Not far away, Brit and Kiwo also noticed the file in Vale's hand. Brit's eyes sharpened with curiosity.
"Archives? Are there any clues?" Brit asked, leaning in slightly.
After a moment of hesitation, Brit's earlier cheer had faded into a more serious expression. Kiwo, equally curious, looked at Vale with wide, inquisitive eyes.
Vale approached, holding the file, and the three of them examined it together. Before diving into its contents, Kiwo tilted her head, glancing at the orange creature nearby.
With a hint of concern, she whispered, "It won't attack us, right?"
Brit and Vale looked up simultaneously, their eyes falling on the orange monster. Brit pondered for a moment before replying.
"It probably won't. If it wanted to attack, it would have done so long ago. It's probably harmless…," he said thoughtfully.
He paused, then added, "And considering it can make people laugh just by being touched, I doubt it has any dangerous side effects. Otherwise, our situation wouldn't be getting better, it might be worse…"
Vale, who had been quietly reading the file, finally spoke. "I think this might be the monster described in this document…"
He handed the file to Brit, and both of them turned their attention to the document, dismissing the orange creature for now. It still looked pitiful, not threatening in the slightest, and seemed at ease, not showing any signs of aggression. The risk appeared minimal.
Brit and Kiwo examined the file carefully, their expressions gradually shifting from curiosity to surprise.
[ SCP-999, "The Tickle Monster" ]
[ Object Class: Safe ]
[ Description:
SCP-999 appears as a large, amorphous, gelatinous mass of translucent orange slime, weighing approximately 54 kg (120 lbs). Its consistency resembles peanut butter. Its shape and size are highly malleable; at rest, SCP-999 forms a rounded, oblate dome roughly 2 meters wide and 1 meter tall. Its surface consists of a thin, transparent membrane, about 0.5 cm thick, similar to an animal cell membrane. This membrane is highly elastic, allowing SCP-999 to flatten parts of its body to as thin as 2 cm. The surface is hydrophobic but can absorb liquids at will (see Addendum SCP-999-A). The rest of SCP-999's interior is filled with a viscous orange substance of unknown chemical composition, capable of digesting organic materials with ease.
Its temperament is best described as playful and dog-like. When approached, SCP-999 reacts with overwhelming elation, often slithering over to the nearest person, leaping onto them, and "hugging" with pseudopods while nuzzling their face with a third pseudopod. It emits high-pitched gurgling and cooing noises during these interactions. Its surface gives off a pleasant odor, which varies depending on the individual it interacts with, scents such as chocolate, fresh laundry, bacon, roses, and Play-Doh™ have been recorded.
Simply touching SCP-999's surface induces an immediate mild euphoria, which intensifies the longer one stays in contact. This feeling persists long after separation. Its favorite activity is "tickle-wrestling", enveloping a person from neck to toes and tickling until asked to stop (though it doesn't always comply immediately). Despite potential injuries, SCP-999 has never intentionally harmed anyone. Instead, it typically backpedals, contracting into a quivering mound while gurgling, a sound reminiscent of a whimpering dog, seeming to apologize for accidental hurts.
While SCP-999 interacts with everyone, it shows a particular interest in those who are unhappy or injured. People suffering from severe depression or PTSD, for example, report feeling significantly more optimistic after multiple encounters. Discussions are ongoing about the possibility of creating antidepressants from its slime.
Beyond its playful nature, SCP-999 exhibits a love for all animals and humans alike. It refuses to eat meat and has risked its own life to save others, once leaping in front of a gunfire aimed at a person. Its intelligence remains a matter of debate; though its behavior appears infantile, it seems capable of understanding human speech and most modern technology, including firearms. Its diet consists exclusively of candy and sweets, especially M&M's™ and Necco™ wafers, consumed through a process similar to amoebic ingestion. ]
The entire file's contents weren't very long, but it took Brit and Kiwo some time to read through the main section. When they finished, both displayed expressions of deep surprise and intrigue. Almost simultaneously, they looked up from the document and gazed at the orange creature nearby.
At this moment, they confirmed that the creature before them matched the description of SCP-999. Judging by its appearance and behavior, it was hardly dangerous. Quite the opposite, it radiated friendliness, even risking itself to protect others. This was a pure act of selfless love. The idea that such a selfless, loving entity could exist within an SCP was almost unbelievable, yet here it was, reality.
Brit felt a surge of emotion at this realization. However, what surprised him even more was an additional appendix attached to the file. It recorded some astonishing, almost unbelievable information...