Personal Journal of Dr. Erica Valdason
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Journal of Dr. Erica Valdason.

This journal was found among Erica's personal effects. Poor woman will never know the horror she has let of the box. -Dr. Mikhail Rowe.


They finally did it today. They put Sigurrós into a comatose state. For some reason I feel guilty about what they did to her. Why do I feel this way? Did I make the decision to put her under? Did I suggest that they kill her in her sleep? No, no, in fact I only met her a month ago, when they began planning what to do with her. Then why should I be ashamed of what I do here? I joined the foundation for the good of mankind.

Iris was heartbroken when she heard the news. The poor girl took her in as a kind of surrogate sister. She took a picture of her sleeping face. I don't think that she has done other than stare at the photo all day.

Regardless, it is now my job, no, my duty to oversee and protect this project, this young girl to the best of my ability.

From a clinical standpoint, Sigurrós is emitting a surprising level of Kappa waves. This is most unusual, as she did not usually emit any waves at all in her sleep, almost as if her power was switched off while she slept. They say that a coma is just an incredibly realistic dream.


I have heard that the final straw that broke the foundation into making their final decision was a large scale security breach of Site-17. From what I've been told (which is very little as to be expected from the foundation) one of the doctors decided that it would be best if Sigurrós were killed, and violence ensued when other doctors tried to halt his progress. Perhaps this conclusion was the happy medium between the two groups… Although I do worry about the Serpent's Hand. They could cause an incident far more violent than what we experienced a few days ago. And they would certainly not be happy if they learned that we contained a child in this manner.

I wonder if her effect on other people is preternatural. Everyone who has come in contact with her has formed some kind of emotional attachment. I admit that in the short time that I spoke with her, she seemed like a very charming young woman. But were my thoughts my own? If she wanted to be loved by everyone she saw then it would be so. It is probably a waste of my time to dwell on something I can never know the answer to.

I spent a small about of time in Sigurrós' containment chamber today. I realized that if I listened closely enough than I could hear a slight static-like noise, like the small noise you hear when a television is turned on. Most likely this noise is generated by the Kappa waves that her mind generates. Not only could I hear the noise, it was almost as if I could feel it. It was like a tingling pressure consistently pushing down on my chest like a small weight pushing me backwards, away from her. I figured that she must want to be alone.

I spoke to Iris again today, the poor girl. I can tell that she hates the foundation and, to my distress, she hates me as well. I told her "I will do all I can to make her comfortable." "It's not fair!" She cried. "It's not fair! You can't just put her to sleep and finish it." She turned her head away in disgust and left. I could tell that she had been crying. I hope that one day she will forgive me for my horrible sin.


I had a dream last night. I leaned up from my bed, in this dream, and I looked towards the door almost instinctively. Sigurrós walked in, in her hospital gown, and said to me, clearly distressed: "Help me, help me! I can't move or see, I'm trapped." I told her "I can't do anything, this is for your own safety and the safety of others". She seemed to let her temper get the best of her and she threw my lamp down upon the floor. "Why would you do this to me? I have never done anything to hurt anyone. I'm a good girl, you told me so yourself." It felt as though I received a blow to the head at this point and fell to the floor.

This morning I awoke to find myself laying on the floor of my quarters. "This is just a coincidence". I told myself, as I did have a tendency to roll about in my sleep. I prepared to leave the room to get myself breakfast, when I stepped on something sharp. I lifted my bleeding foot to see, and what did I find but a shard of my lamp, somehow it had shattered upon the floor in the middle of the night. Did I hear the noise in my sleep and did my mind compensate by inventing a dream?

I looked at the map of Site-17 upon the wall, and realized that my quarters are surprisingly close to Containment Cell-239. Worried, I reviewed the security footage monitoring Sigurrós last night. As I had expected she did not move at all. I investigated the room thoroughly and found that the walls of her cell are corroding at an astounding rate. From what I can guess this is a result of the chronic bombardment of Kappa waves the walls are receiving. They appear to be growing stronger and stronger by the day. I have ordered that the walls of the cell be coated with a Telekill-Lead alloy to prevent corrosion damage to the surrounding area.


No dreams last night. Either the telekill alloy worked, or my conscience is clear, or at very least clearer. I must be losing my mind, lining her room up like some kind of cage just because I had a nightmare? Then again I did have a sound argument to do it. The O5s told me specifically that if I had any reason to believe anything I should take precautions.

Nonetheless I checked the walls, newly covered in their metal lining, and I saw that the they had already begun corroding again, however at a much slower rate. I have decided that we should recover the walls with lead every other week, that should keep the walls covered at a stable rate.

I worry about Iris more and more these days. I think that Sigurrós was the one thing that kept her holding on all this time. Damn my guilty conscience, I know that I would probably hold myself responsible if she killed herself somehow. I convinced O5-2 to put her on suicide watch for the next few weeks. I hope she understands that I had no choice.


I wonder now why the foundation picked me to oversee Sigurrós. All of my previous research has been on probability and chance with SCP-181, SCP-463, and SCP-778. Perhaps, it has something to do with her ability to influence her surroundings, maybe it was completely random. Personally I think it is because I was once the mother of my own little girl. But, that's neither here nor there. I almost cried yesterday, looking at Sigurrós. She reminds me so much of Beatrix.

I do not trust the Level-0 personnel that recover the walls. They glance about suspiciously when I enter the room, and they whisper to each other with wicked grins. Are they planning something I wonder. Or, have they already carried out their plans. I reviewed the security footage of Sigurrós' cell while they were in the room, and the camera signal was mysteriously lost. This makes me very uneasy. I tried to have the two suspicious men reassigned to another SCP, but I was unable. I tried to get Iris to provide additional surveillance, but her photos have been confiscated due to suicide watch. My God, what have I done.

I checked her room today, and the Kappa waves were making a clearly audible noise. It was a horrible hiss, like a live wire short circuiting. It felt as though, she were screaming at me, or to me. I am afraid of what I might find, but I have ordered a full medical examination on her. If I find no evidence, then either she has not been touched, or they have not yet carried out their plans, but I will not be able to reassign the Level-0s. If I do find evidence… It seems to be a catch 22 situation.


Thank God. The medical test results showed no sign of physical abuse on her body. But I was not going to lay back and wait for something to happen! Oh no, I was on to those bastards and I had them right where I wanted them. I had them both have a quick chat with Saint. Needless to say, it didn't take him long to find their plans floating about in their brains.

Now that I had the sufficient evidence to have those bastards reclassified to D-class. I hope they get assigned to something that will kill them slowly.


I sometimes wonder why the foundation decided to recruit me into their ranks. The last major discovery I made was the fact that chance and "luck" as most people call it can be influenced without necessarily "rigging" the results. This is probably why the originally decided to put me to work on SCP-181.

I am a little upset, that my findings never reached the public. Why, I ask myself, does the foundation hide the crucial finding of it's researchers until they find out how it works for themselves. Do they want to hide the paranormal from the public? I doubt it. I think that it is a business strategy. I have heard rumors from some of the other researchers that Alan Archibald Campbell-Swinton was actually an SCP researchers who invented a working television based off of technology found in some other SCP. Some people say that Kain Pathos Crow invented dog treats as well, but I think this must be a jab at his… unfortunate condition.

Then again, how else is the foundation going to fund all these research facilities? Perhaps they really do get cut a check every time a television is sold at your hometown electronics store.


Yesterday was… difficult, to say the least. In the morning I had to report in to some kind of security debriefing for something that did not concern me in the least, I just slept through the damn thing.

The strangest thing happened later in the day. I walked into her room to check something or the other, and I looked away for just the shortest moment. When I looked back to her face, she had turned to look at me, and her eyes had opened. I was frightened when I thought she had awakened of her own accord, but she was still unconscious. It was still unsettling enough to give me nightmares again last night.

It was the same dream as a few nights ago, Sigurrós walked into my room and begged for me to help her, I'm not sure whether or not she said the same things or she if told me something different, I can't quite remember exactly what she had said.

I find myself slipping mentally, back to my mothering days, in the sense that I am constantly thinking about the worst case scenario. What if, she was still consciously controlling her powers? What if, the coma has only dampened her abilities, and the kappa waves building are a sign of her gathering willpower? I worry, if I tell the foundation of my suspicions then they will decide to kill her before something happens. I took a sick day today, just to avoid her. Damn me, scared by a little girl in a coma.


She's still staring at the same place I had been standing yesterday. The damnedest thing happened just as I was about to leave the room. Without moving her eyes away from the one point on the wall, she jutted her hands out from under the covers and started jerking it about rapidly, as though she were trying to write something. I tried to grab her hand and put my pencil in it, but she was somehow stronger than me. It took two men to hold her arm still enough for me to jam the pencil into her fingers.

When I put a piece of paper under her hand, she began drew what appeared to be an incredibly detailed human eye. enclosed here


I wonder if this drawing has a deeper meaning?


For the past two days she hasn't stopped scribbling in the air with her pencil. Try as we might, we just can't get the damn thing out of her hand, and even a higher dose of sedatives won't stop her from moving. She just seems to be drawing the same thing over and over again. An eye. What in the world could this mean?

However, it seems that she has calmed down slightly. Her movements are more fluid, and more deliberate. I have decided that we should keep a pad of paper underneath her hand, to keep track of her drawings and writings. It's mostly gibberish, and meaningless, childish drawings. One phrase is a constant. "Mom and dad, tell me the truth".


We had a major breakthrough yesterday. About midday, she began writing very calmly, as though she were fully conscious. After she wrote for about an hour, she tore out a page from the notebook, and wrote "Hello?" on a clean sheet of paper, and turned it away from herself, as though she expected a response. This is absolutely incredible. This could revolutionize the way doctors treat comatose patients!

I walked in to her cell, and had a conversation with her! I walked in and said as clearly as I could through my excitement: "I am here." she began writing again, she 'said': "Where am I?" to which I responded "You are in your room, sleeping." trying to keep her calm. "Why can't I wake up?" I tried to think of something that sounded like the usual magic BS. "You are being held for trial by the wizard court for misuse of magic." I thought I had done a good job of making that up on the fly. After that, she began scribbling and writing meaninglessly.

On another note, I noticed that the humming white noise, generated by the kappa waves, is not only audible in her cell and surrounding rooms, but it can be clearly heard all over site-17, but the corrosive effects are seemingly stopped by the telekill.

I asked the resident psychologist on staff, Dr. Rowe, to make an assessment. Based on a seven hour observation period, he claims that her personality has been split in several distinct entities. For example, he has named the entity that I met with yesterday, an incarnation of her curiosity. Also, he deduced that she is able to maintain lucidity of thought for a few minutes at a time, despite being clinically unconscious.


I met the incarnation of her anger today. Out of all my experiences with the foundation that was by far the scariest, but then again I've never left site-17 and it's relatively calm here… well, except for the whole 808 incident a few months ago… and of course the security breach that led up to Rosie's containment, I've begun to call her that… probably because the nicest of her personalities suggested it to me. In any case she demanded to see me, and wrote down upon the paper angrily: "Why are you doing this to me?!" I tried to reiterate that she was being held for some wizard trail or something, but she just wrote "I'm more powerful than you! If you don't let me out of my room I'm going to make you very sorry." A few of the lighter objects in the room, including the hairs on my head, began to shake violently, and I left the room as quickly as possible.

A few hours later curiosity came out and asked to talk with me. she asked, "Why don't I have a mom and dad like everyone else?" I knew that it was forbidden to tell her the answer to this question while she was awake, but I'm not quite sure whether it's against the rules now that she is asleep. Before I could formulate a proper answer she seemed to lose lucidity, and she descended back into her particular variety of madness. I've made my decision. I'm telling her the truth tomorrow. She deserves to know what really happened.

Note: Dr. Erica Valdason has been killed by the entity currently known as SCP-239-R. See Incident Report 239-R-17.

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